Getting It Right

The pond was quiet in the morning. The trees were still and the water was dark and flat. I carried a cane pole and a tin of worms. The pole was long and light, one I had used for many years. It was good tackle. Simple and honest. You could feel the fish with it. I dug the worm from the tin and put it on the hook. The hook was sharp and the worm curled around it, trying to hold on. I let the line drop near the reeds. There was no need to cast far. The fish were near the bank. You only had to wait. Not long, usually. Not if the water was right and the sun not too high. The line twitched. Then it pulled. I set the hook and lifted. The fish came up fast, splashing. It was a bluegill, wide and flat. It kicked hard in the air. I brought it in and took it off the hook. Its mouth opened and shut like it was still trying to speak. I held it a moment, then let it slip back into the water. It disappeared slow beneath the reeds. There would be others. There are always others if you wait and your tackle is true.

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