Fish worship. We gently fondle the smooth trout body. Cold wet hands stroking the object of our affection, held just below the surface of the water, pulsating in the current. " Yes, yes ,yes you are mine. You are my fish. I love you." I am a Fish God, a mighty Neptune holding dominion over life and death.
I'm getting carried away. Them that care, know that trout season opens tomorrow. A yearly ritual for me. The shaving of the beard; Grown for deer season and shorn so's not to scare the fish.
I actually went fishing on opening day, twice that I recall. Frozen, miserable, fishless affairs. Snow is predicted this year. I think I'll go. You should too.
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