Yesterday, I was lamenting the fact that it did not appear there was one significant keepsake of my departed Uncle’s left in his wife’s hoarding home. No rods, no reels, no flies, no nothing. But, today, digging a little deeper into the core foundation of the room that was his safe haven, an early prototype of the ‘man cave’, there were two discoveries that gave some glimmer of his involvement with fly fishing and perhaps fly tying.
Could this be a tying station from the 1950's & 60's? A magnifying glass and a rigged up light fixture were attached to a block of wood. There was no vise, but the block of wood did not appear to be a craft station for some other more aggressive craft endeavor. Hard to say for sure, but one can wonder if he tucked himself away in this back room and applied fur and feathers to a hook.
And, as if to add credence to that being a tying station on the shelf above the spot was a single fly box. No flies, no hooks, nothing inside the box, but there it was.
The Old Fly Box. Void of flies, but still a special tin box that will act as a special keepsake.
So, the day was not without some interesting discoveries in that old, hoarding home. A little patience paid off in this instance. Reconfirming the need for patience in fly fishing and life in general is always a good thing.
