Joy in the State of Flow
The strike took me by surprise. As the fish tugged on the line beneath the brackish water I was slow at first to set the hook and draw my quarry from the lake into the warm evening air. Its green/yellow scales flashed in the low angle light of the setting sun as I gently removed the fly from its mouth. With a sharp snap of its tail the first bluegill of the season slapped the palm of my hand as I released it back into the rippling pool....
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