One Night in Maine
Don’t snap it.
Sweep a smooth long figure 8 and gently lay down the leader.
Your mayfly will hover then rest on the water, the last of the length to touch.
If you snap, you will break your knot and lose your fly.
Imagine 600 feet per second.
That’s it. That’s better.
Lakeside grass is smashed here where bear sat munching meager blueberries in morning’s mist.
You may pick a few for tomorrow’s pancakes, but leave the rest for our friend.
The lake glows burning amber with the sun behind the pines, our water glowing and still, and mayflies dance and bob, and aquatic creatures leap and slap and leap and slap.
A silhouetted loon swims low in a patch of smoldering amber and sings the saddest haunting song laced with hues of joy and reconciliation.
(Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay.)
Ah, a lovely evening of fishing and nature. Great way to end a day!
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Good morning! This is a cherished memory of when my dad taught me to fly fish on a lake in Maine, whilst the loons sang at sunset across the lake. Forty years later I put it to words!
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I love this. I was right there, seeing, hearing & smelling experiencing all the things you wrote about. I like the addition of the fat bears bottom pressing everything down where he sat.
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We could tell he or she was a mighty big beast!
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Magically peaced together & conveyed. I especially appreciate the final line. It touches on many facets of life’s experiences, to me.
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I am so glad you enjoyed it! (btw, I shared your Angel Gabriel comment with my sister, Gabe’s new mom, and she really appreciated it!)
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I am so glad. Thank you for sharing that with me, & her, because it made her happy. Her motherhood truly shines.
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Thank you for telling me, & thank you for sharing it with her because it made her happy. Her motherhood truly shined, even through a photograph.
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Apologies. There was a screen glitch. What I typed disappeared, but I hadn’t sent it. So, I sent another comment
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