Fish Dream

Fish Dream

The fish are jumping. The cloud is shaped like a big trout. Just like that dream when I was casting a line and caught a giant rainbow. And the cloud overhead was shaped just like a beautiful trout.

I ponder this as I cast a line over my favorite stream. Back and forth went the line with a favorite fly, in the rhythm taught me as a child. As soothing as the cold water running over my legs, the giggling stream sounds filling my ears. I could hear birds in the trees lining the river bank. A sharp bark from George brought me back to reality.

“Hey there! Are you catching anything?” shouts a person from the riverbank.

George the dog is greeting a man. But not just any man, a man not dressed for fishing. I wade over to check this out.

“No fish today. The sun isn’t in the right spot. Can I help you?”

“Just passing through. Nice dog. Looking for a place to land.” He pets George again.

“Take that path, it’ll go up that mountain to a pass. Then back down to another stream. Go through that to another path. That path takes you to West Umber. Small town. Nice place.”

I returned to my flies, my fishing. A pop gets my attention. George lay lifeless.

“Hey, what the …”

Another pop. I now think how beautifully the red of my blood floating down the steam matches the rainbow trout’s scales.


W/C 245