July 6th, 1998 | |||
The Flyline by Dave Motes |
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The flyline slides toward me, orange on black rippled ice, that curls and shifts to the shape of the river's freestone bottom. Black water draws itself in the image of the drained winter sky veined with vacant branches; bristling curves of distant ridge shrug up against the night's cargo of chill.
The ripples of my intrusion on the surface are gone now,
And if a trout takes
This line aligns; by its odd flight
Trout still rise, though darkness has taken the limits
~Dave Motes
Home 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 two-year old son, and fishes both salt and freshwater for trout and bass, stripers, but mostly smallmouth from Alabama to Minnesota. |
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