Fishing in the shadows of volcanoes (Drive Day 216: Jan 31, 2004)
There is something so simple, artistic, even literary about fly fishing and yet existentially frustrating. I love the noise the fly makes when you tug it out of the water, like a sucking “pop” and then a “zing” as it whizzes through the air and a “snap” when your arm hits one o’clock and the line whips out behind you. Gary gets two strikes but I am too distracted by the magic hour illuminating a snow-capped volcano right in my line of sight.
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