July is here and with it all the manmade anadromous-fish passageways on Connecticut Valley dams will soon be closed, signaling the end of another disappointing spring spawning run.

How else to assess the 2010 migratory-fish numbers, which, through Monday, showed 167,486 American shad, 49 Atlantic salmon and a not-even-worth-reporting 92 blueback herring? Imagine that, 92 freaking herring, which came by the hundreds of thousands in recent memory. It may as well be zero the way I look at it. In fact, it makes you wonder when the numbers of all three aforementioned migratory-fish species will be just that: zero. Seems to be trending that way, no matter what the experts cashing state and federal paychecks would have you believe. The outlook is bleak. They know it. It’s all about climate change, stupid; has to be. That and other factors restoration people have little or no control over.

Many readers familiar with this column over the past 30 years inaccurately characterize me as a Connecticut River Salmon Restoration Program opponent. They’re wrong. A foe I am not, just a realist, one who has scrutinized the numbers over parts of five decades. I am not a numbers-cruncher. In fact, I hate numbers; would much rather play with words. But it doesn’t take a mathematician or scientist to understand that the numbers I’m speaking of ain’t good. And anyone who tries to tell you numbers don’t matter is a fool or a liar, your choice, because numbers do matter in scientific experiments, and that’s exactly what our salmon-restoration project is.

Salmon were indeed here when New England was discovered, and they remained here into the late Federal Period before disappearing due to the construction of dams and the end of the Little Ice Age, likely more the latter than the former. During the last half of the 20th century began an altruistic, aggressive, interactive federal and state restoration program aimed at establishing a viable salmon sport fishery to the Connecticut River and its largest tributaries. Ever since, officials overseeing the coordinated effort have given it their absolute best effort. No one can say otherwise. It was a valiant effort, with many of the finest hearts and minds committed. But their best efforts cannot overcome climactic and ecological changes that have in recent years decimated salmon stocks on both of our coasts, particularly the North Atlantic. Now scientists fear Atlantic salmon extinction. Yes, extinction, which, if it comes to pass will be sad indeed. Think of it: the greatest of all Atlantic freshwater game fish a thing of the past, history.

Isn’t fear of extinction the reason for putting Atlantic salmon on the endangered-species list? Is it not a possibility that they will all be gone by the time my grandsons are parents? Don’t doubt it. It’s real.

So let us not bury our heads in the Maritimes’ gravelly shores. It’s time to face facts. The days of fishing for migratory New England Atlantic salmon are over. Sad but true. In fact, it appears that the days are numbered for even a random New England salmon showing up here and there, especially in the Connecticut River, the mouth of which has in its best days been at the southern extreme of Atlantic salmon range. Maybe that’s what these grammar-school teachers bringing their students to the rivers’ edge for immature salmon-stocking field trips ought to be telling them; not that the fish they’re stocking will soon be back to spawn as adults; a romantic concept that unfairly keeps them on board for years to come, misleads them.

If there was anything really valuable at stake here — say a home, a family fortune, even a priceless heirloom — then there would be no one playing or encouraging others to play this game of impossible odds. It would then be called a con game, those promoting it swindlers.