Yes!

The long-awaited trout season opener arrived Saturday.

Things that come to mind while trout fishing happen only when I make my treks along the streams renewed with melted snow and bubbling springs.

The whir of a ruffed grouse drumming his wings while perched on a fallen log or the sky-high act of a woodcock twirling back to earth from dizzying heights are things that bring peace to lovers of the outdoors.

Water, sky, earth and new growth are sensory-charging parts of nature and are offered freely.

This is the time of year that brings people out of their winter hideaways. Warm morning sun creeps across the frosty landscape, melting away the chill and settling on our necks and shoulders as we cast into the frothy waters.

I can hear a hardy hail from old-timers, who jest about making it to one more trout opener. Soon, they start to fish in earnest as they yearn for that unmistakable tug of a trout hitting their offering.

I chuckle to myself as I witness the outlandish yet familiar outfits that anglers choose to wear. Cabela's, Woolrich, Columbia and L.L. Bean can be found on many of the trendy anglers, while others choose a mix-and-match approach of old, new and abstractly pulled together gear. Fishing hats offer the widest varieties of styles and utilitarian uses for the day.

The tackle used by the anglers is as varied as their garb. Some choose the spinning rod and open-faced spinning reel, while others have the ever-steady bait-cast rod and reel that encapsulates line and reel mechanism so that even a kid couldn't mess it up.

They apparently haven't taken a bunch of kids fishing because they get tangled up, too!

Boots and nets always are unique to the fishing area. Chest waders, hip boots and knee-high gum boots can get the job done, depending on the waterway. It isn't unusual to see a teenager or two decide to wade into the water wearing just a pair of sneakers. They will regret it when the blue feet and chattering teeth caused by icy spring runoff overshadow their adventure.

Every year, our group turns the opening day into a festival of sorts, with good cooking, campfires and hot drinks or cold, depending on your thirst.

The boys made about 50 pounds of hot sausage over the winter and we are grilling it on the open wood fire for brunch. I would say lunch, but it never makes the wait until the noon hour.

The wildlife conservation officer from the Fish and Boat Commission will stop by to check us out and have a sandwich. The guys who have done well will pat him on the back and the others will cry about no fish to be found. I remind them that there's hot coffee and plenty of sausage, so quit bellyaching and enjoy the moment.

Eventually, a few of my cronies will want to make a small wager on the next fish caught and we line up along the bank like a bunch of kids.

We set the rules: cast on a three count, first trout in, no junk fish and you have to land it.

They want me bad — I got them last year and they had to be reminded every now and again about who was the champ.

When the day comes to an end and there are fish to clean and gear to put away, we'll say our goodbyes to the old and new friends that we have met on the opening day.