(June 22, 2018)

Now comes fish season

when fat lunkers* throw their bait

onto hungry docks.


  • (Lunker: usually an egg-ladened female Largemouth Bass, patrolling a quiet patch of pickerell weed and lilly pads in lake- or river-side shallows at sunrise, seeing a broke-back minnow disturbing its peaceful perambulatory swimming pursuits and with cop-like swuftness slams a gaping mouth driven by fins furiously flashing into its slammer – but for a moment: wily old girl knows its taste and is not tempted past toying with the quiet boy in tailor’s lotus on the bank hidden by a patch of reeds as it tosses the lure onto the dock and flits one last tailed salute in a rush to cooler waters. The expected response to “how big” is a modest shrug and sliding-scale hands widening with palms turned to each other: “I dunno. Didn’t stay long enough to hop onto the scales. But I’d guess eight or nine or thirteen pounds. Was using six-pound test.”  Fisher-boys notoriously poor liars.)


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