62-39.
The full moon lasted late into the morning. I wasn't going to catch anything.
I was correct. Off to spot number two. Ten minutes into it, I notice I'm not alone. It's a bad shot, so I marked it with an arrow. You probably still can't tell there's a gator there. There is.
The "Bluegill Pond" was slow. Two Sandhill cranes loudly called to each other non stop. That would have been a great shot, but, wish in one hand... The line came tight. Skunk averted.
If you look closely, you can see the leader is wrapped a few times around the fly line. As I was trying to photograph the fish, it sank what felt like fifty rays into my hand. Somehow as the fish dropped, it wound itself around the line. Last laugh.
There was a wake, followed by a curve cast around a fence, followed by a proud grin, followed by a tug...
About five minutes later, another little guy
Overrated. No defense. Can't run the ball and they're facing a great defense.
62-39.
It's been a good weekend! O H!