My Witt's End

Three Little Words

On the way home from the recycle center this morning I decided to check out a little pond I'd only glimpsed about a year ago. I thought it might offer some close-to-home bluegill fishing. It is not exactly secluded, however, it's far enough off the beaten path to be easily missed. And, since no boats are allowed, I'm sure it's bypassed by most of the fishing crowd.

 

Sure enough, sitting like a little gem, lined with trees (but not so many that a fly fisher couldn't find a good spot) was the pond as I remembered. Since I did not have a loaded rod in the car (an error I hope to correct) this was purely a scouting mission. I checked around the edges for telltale signs of other fishers, things like empty beer cans, cigarette butts, or carelessly discarded fishing line. All looked good.

 

Then I spotted a fellow about 50 yards along the shoreline, eyes focused on a small bobber about 25 feet out. I walked over to him and asked: "Any fish in this pond?"

 

He looked at me like I had just arrived from Planet Jupiter and said: "Does it matter?"

 

Leave a comment:

  •  

Purchase My Books At Amazon.com

You can purchase all versions of Lost in the Tallgrass and A Clouded Life at http://www.amazon.com.

Join the email list!

My Witt's End

Non-bird Tweets

Look for me at Goodreads

Lost in the Tallgrass