Back in the spring just about the time our cottonwoods leaf out and the lilacs reach full bloom, you know the bluegills are moving from their deep-water winter sanctuaries to the sun-drenched shallows of lakes and ponds in preparation for their annual spawning ritual.

This knowledge is based more on folklore and tradition than actual science, but it is surprisingly accurate for predicting bluegill activity and a refreshingly delightful departure from the digital thermometers, electronic depth finders and solunar charts that a lot of today’s high-tech fishermen rely on.

The bluegill spawn is actually triggered by a combination of increasing water temperatures and extended hours of sunlight. When the long sunny days of late spring warm the shallows to about 60 degrees or so, the bluegills begin to move.

Bluegills have been called America’s favorite panfish. They’re easy to catch, and they taste good. Their flesh is white, sweet, firm and flaky. A mess of batter-dipped bluegills sizzled quickly in a frying pan and served with hush puppies, thick slices of sweet Vidalia onion and melted lemon-butter is an old southern tradition that tastes as good here as it does in Alabama.

But you don’t have to board a jet for the Deep South to enjoy this culinary delight; you can catch bluegills — and many of their sunfish cousins — right here in Colorado.

Bluegills are the most widely distributed of the dozen or so species of sunfish. They can be found in just about every farm pond and warm-water lake as well as slow-moving creeks, flooded gravel pits and city-park ponds. And, as I mentioned, they’re easy to catch. Kids especially love ‘em.

A cane pole rigged with a bobber and a small, long-shanked hook baited with a bit of garden worm is the classic barefoot boy’s bluegill rig — and one of the most effective. You simply swing the baited hook and bobber out over the over the water and let it settle.

If you’re on a decent bluegill pond, you won’t have to wait long, a minute or two at the most. Usually, it’s only a matter of seconds before the bobber starts trembling, then chugging and finally dives underwater in that telltale spiral that signals a thumping bluegill on the end of the line.

Of course, you can use more sophisticated tackle if you like, and you’ll often see fly fishermen on the bluegill ponds this time of year. They’ll be stalking the shoreline or drifting about in float tubes, casting dry flies, cork poppers or sponge rubber spiders. If you ask, though, some of them will tell you they can remember when they used to do this with cane poles, bobbers and worms.

A few will get that faraway look in their eyes and mention how they couldn’t wait for the lilacs to bloom and the cottonwoods to leaf out.