“All this impermanence and suffering
we share with dogs, bees, crows,
the aquatic insects that lives but a single minute on a summer evening then descends to it's river burial, perhaps into the mouth of a trout already full of it's brothers and sisters
while in a nearby mead…
“Still, like the trout, we must find a way of moving through water with the least amount of displacement. The more we fish, the more weightlessly and quietly we move through a river and among its fish, and the more we resemble our own minds in the bliss of angling.”
The Lon…