FOGGY MORNING CANNIBALISM
The big rivers are blown out. Hurricane rain from whoever-we’re-up-to-now flooded the watershed, and it’s looking like slow mornings and lots of vise time for the coming week. The weather has changed. 70s are no longer in the forecast. The mornings are crisp, and the leaves are all but gone. Stripping a fly line over fingers builds a chill in the bones. I’ve been in a different mindset for a few weeks, now. Whether it’s my brain associating past years’ memories with the photo