beckons. I went to bed with all my gear prepared lest I fumble around in the dark or with some headlamp in the dark of morning. I get up with anticipation. Odd how the mind works. I am up quickly this morn; any other morning I would moan and move slowly. Now the aches, tightness are vague reminders of age and injuries. The chill is in the air, so I bundle up against the cold and likely rain. I slowly shuffle to the water’s edge. Too dark to fish, I can hear the roar of the water…no bubbling brook now. You can feel it. The river is alive right below the surface as fish as long as your leg hold in the currents, pulsing back and forth. Slowly the light emerges. First light is a glorious time when anticipation quickens the pulse and the mind………..

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