January 1st, 2001 | |||
Calendar-spring By David Motes
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In calendar spring, on the far bank I can see shadows of old snow in the draws and creeks. On this bank the sunlight washes by upstream. I can look long distance into the cottonwoods, far enough for green to grow from the grey and black and merge into a hint. On the berm a bank of sandy silt remains from the winter high-water, covering the husks of last summers' riot of burdock and ivies and stinging-nettle. The stink rises like hope, like a promise of warmth enough to raise the plants again, and bed them in this yolk of river-richness. The water's winter-brown is tinted through with clarity and life. Where the refugee sun probes it gives up subtle sips of future greens and blues and clarity down to gravel. The drift-ice grumbles by, promising revenge. ~ David Motes About David MotesHome for Dave is Oakton, Virginia where he is a high school English teacher and Fly fishing instructor and guide with Mark Kovach Fishing Services on the upper Potomac River near Harper's Ferry, WVA. He is married with a young son, and fishes both salt and freshwater for trout and bass, stripers, but mostly smallmouth from Alabama to Minnesota. |
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