Tried my favorite 15-acre Jersey pond north of Route 80. First I fished a black spinnerbait in shallows pretty slow, ending up sitting on the concrete spillway with boots on granite below, retrieving the spinnerbait really slow along bottom eight feet deep. That was the venture's highlight, having a little while to sit, slow down and let thoughts arise.
Then I marched back to my car a long way and switched to a Husky Jerk, intending to go scrabble among the rocks. A couple of other guys pulled in. They never followed me to the back of the pond, which takes some effort climbing rocks and shuffling aside brambles.
I caught this 2 1/2-pounder photographed, which my wide angle lens really did little justice to. Broken rhythm on retrieve. Missed another hit way back near the curve around to the other side.
Drab day, kind of chilly, 59 degrees and not much doing. I fished not quite two hours and it just never got better than one of those oppressive days, which nevertheless blesses you with a little realism about things, just doesn't feel good.