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We work our way next through a scruffy zone of ironweed, oxeye daisies and Queen Anne’s lace, then plunge to shade under trees, passing through a smattering of jewelweed, poison ivy and monkey flower. Then, at last, in deep shade, we come to water . . . Continue Reading

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In: Fishing, Poetry
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When you hook about a dozen fish the day seems bright and good until you hook that certain one that reels in like dead wood alarmed, anticipating, struggling to be free then after strength had worn quite thin simply trusting me, placing total trust in me to set him freeContinue Reading