fish with db & bb, riley too

“Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after” Henry David Thoreau

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Between sky and pond sits a Monet canvas, brush strokes of green, brush strokes of brown, tiny dabs of red and orange.

Had not a bird flown overhead, had not waves crashed on the shore, had not drizzle wet my face I could have been in Paris at The Louvre, could have been in Manhattan at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, could be, but not…

…I’m in Vermont on the shores of Kent Pond a 100 acre body of fresh water that has the Appalachian Trail straddling its shores.
A storm is sneaking up a mountain to the south, to the north the clouds have cleared the airspace for the rain. The air is cool when you breath it in, a respite from the hot and humid summer that is slinking into fall.

One side of the pond is filled with gentle waves, on the other side it looks like glass, I saw the hawk in the reflection before I saw it in the air...
— From the story Ben & Justin: Kent Pond, VT

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