This is a hard time of year for fly fishermen living in New England. At every turn, nature deceives: It’s warm, and yet the water is still cold; the flowers are budding, but the waters aren’t teeming with fish; the birds have arrived and are breaking the silence of the early morning more loudly, and more frequently, but the stripers aren’t breaking the surface. The land is bursting, but our water bodies? Still calm, still waiting the arrival of fish.