Nice day on the Amicolola

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Posted by Bob Colley on October 15, 1996 at 00:03:31:

What a beautiful fall Sunday it was. Got started late and only had a few hours of daylight to get in some fishing, so I thought I'd try the Amicolola since it's close to home.
The sky was a blinding clear blue. Water was clean low and emerald clear. Painted, speckaled leaves flowed lazily through gurgeling runs dashing forth their broken mirrored colors refleced blueness.
Smells were of acid oaks and earthy mossy banks. Dark, secretive laurels and "dendrons" held their mysterious shadows concealing untold mysteries neath snaky red bark branches.
'Long about dark bright white helicopters danced and darted above the riffels and runs swaying to a timeless music only they could hear. "Hark..a rise!"
I looked for him long and hard for these trounced over waters held little relief for his own silent solitude. But yes, there he first a gentle splash, and then a more bold leap, his muddy golden side said he was a brown.
Careful not to scare him I eased up to his domain..cast out my line behind me so as not to disturb, then let go a silver web loosing its coils to where I thought he must be.
Nothing, another cast, then another, still nothing. I've spooked him I thought feeling the wind go out of my sail.
One more cast, just a little upstream, maybe in that run at the head of the pool. The unexpected splashed almost sacared me as the water turned into crystal diamonds awaking the silent energy of the stream.
He wasn't too big, he didn't have to be for me. He'd given me my moment in the sun there with no one watching. There didn't have to be anyone there..It was enough just to have done it.
I watched him as he slipped back into his world, those silent emerald depths of mystery and unknowing..wondering if he'd be there next year, maybe bigger, maybe smarter, maybe in a mood ready to play.
I was feeling pretty good, thankful to whatever above had given me this golden day. There was a lady on the bank standing beside her Jeep Cherokee. Her elderly husband was just downstream getting in a few last casts. She looked a little upset.
She showed me what was in her small purple cooler as she held it by her side. Three fish, one a twin of the brown that had rewarded me just minutes ago..dead and stiff, the colors fading and turning milky from decay. She asked me if I'd want the fish. She and her husband never kept them. Some men who had been bait fishing when I first arrived didn't want to clean them and had wanted to discard them like some useless trash.
She'd felt guilty and took them because to her someone who didn't even fish, felt it was a sin to waste such a precious gift from the river and creator of all things.
Sadly, I couldn't help wondering if my special brown friend it'd just met upstream would be there next time.

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