INFLUENCES
Sitting on an old trestle long abandoned by a defunct railway and now a historic pathway for trout fishermen, I looked at the water below my dangling legs as it passed silently by. I had fished through the morning and had enjoyed a relaxing successful time on the water. A solid handful of fish had willingly risen to my offerings whenever I was able to put together a decent presentation, and there's really not much more that a person can ask for in my mind. No huge fish, but none were what one would consider small either. Just a good day, that is, in the eyes of this fisherman anyway. The end result; I was as happy-as-a-clam and content with the world.