It won't stop raining, but I want to take a few cast. The girls have already showered so they pass on it. What a beautiful and bazaar purple shade of sky. I love that the same place can be so different from day to day, seasonally, and even night and day. Today I was going to wait till it stopped raining, but as I make my way out into the purple I try to find the bright side of the night. Even though my glasses are now covered in droplets, and I can't see to tie on my spring keeper hook, there are still possibilities. I comfort myself about the drops upon the water surface and try to recount times past, when I did well staying to fish through the storm. The rain will work to my advantage I tell myself; it will be my cover, just like hunting in the rain. It starts raining harder, and the sky is getting darker. I make my way barefoot through the grass along the lake. My glasses are completely useless now so I move them atop my head. The craw, at the end of my line, suggest enough disturbance, on top of the water to stand out in the rain. Well, that's what I hope anyway, and here it is, a slam upon my lure. Even in the dark the disturbance is enough to break clean the sound of rain, and capture enough light to see the boil. I set the hook and step back to fight, and feel what bare feet should not. One of my lovely neighbors, has decided not to clean up after their dog. They probably feel that the lake is the outer barrier, where it is safe to put aside the rule, but I would much prefer they do it near the houses. There, I would walk upon the side walk and not spend so much time barefoot in the dark. Oh bother, I suppose I should forgive. I remember what it was like to have a dog, not so long ago, and more often then not I must confess, I did not pick up his mess.
As much as I would like to stay, my mind keeps replaying that warm squishy feeling from moments earlier. What a pretty little fish though, and I love the way the droplets and the scales reflect my flash. Ok, enough already, I'm going in to take a shower.