Saturday, August 27, 2011

The Day Was ...



The sun is down behind the birches and the black spruces, and the lake is quiet and calm. Grayling are dimpling the outlet of the Otherside River within a long double-haul of the dock, and Reba McIntire is on the radio. I'm not fishing. I'm sated. I have a bit of a sunburn, and I can feel the siren song of warm flanel sheets. I'm not long for this world.


The day was ...

How do describe a day like today?

I shared a boat with a good friend, stumbled on a new fly pattern (and gave it a raucous name, to be shared at another time, to be sure). I caught a trophy pike. And a trophy grayling. I enjoyed a shore lunch. I took a hike.


I skimmed along the surface of Lake Athabasca without once thinking I had an e-mail to answer or a phone call to return (although, truth be told, I likely have both). I enjoyed "a" glass of good Irish whiskey and just finished a steak dinner.

Wait ... let me check. Yep. The grayling are still rising to mayflies just off the dock.

The day was ... perfect.


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