It’s been a couple month since my last post, it was dedicated to my friend Bob Dahl a poet and trout fisherman. He read the post, commented and a day or two later suffered a fatal heart attack. I pray that his spirit has found a peaceful, joyful place. I will forever miss him.
I know that feeling of great satisfaction while fly-fishing!
I’ve spent many days on trout streams catching absolutely nothing
After a long day it felt as if I had been there only minutes.
I would get lost in the craft of fly-casting,
in the nature of trees and water
wading against the unrelenting force of the river.
Those days were the most memorable – and successful – of my life.
It wasn’t so much about catching fish
as getting lost in the nothingness of myself.
This sunset photo looking skyward at a lone tree is a bit of a cliché, but still, filled with symbolism for the end of the year 2020. We can all hope for a sunrise on a New Year promising an end to the pandemic, a burgeoning economy, healthcare for everyone and reasonably priced education that every student can afford without sustaining overwhelmingly burdensome debt.
Although heavy rain fell most of the night, this elegant toadstool withstood the downpour. This morning it was fresh, looking newly developed, but by late afternoon it began to droop; age is having its affect.
I believe this fungus is poisonous to humans, but the ants seem to be getting something beneficial from it.