There is a little lake near Trout Lake (there's a string of four lakes in that valley) that is stocked with Brook Trout each Spring. I plan to be there soon after the season opens. Later, so I've been told, one can catch nice Brookies in the outlet stream that cuts through the pines and willows below the lake.
I went to that lake a few years ago, and I remember I caught some Brook Trout, but after an extensive search of my photos I was unable to find any Brook Trout. It may have been so long ago I was still fishing without a camera. So, if you would be so kind, Brk Trt, I'd like to use one of your photos to go along with this poem. Thanks.
Speckled Trout
by Ron Rash
Water-flesh gleamed like mica:
orange fins, red flankspots, a char
shy as ginseng, found only
in spring-flow gaps, the thin clear
of faraway creeks no map
could name. My cousin showed me
those hidden places. I loved
how we found them, the way we
followed no trail, just stream-sound
tangled in rhododendron,
to where slow water opened
a hole to slip a line in,
and lift as from a well bright
shadows of another world,
held in my hand, their color
already starting to fade.
Nice char.
ReplyDeleteThe words to that poem have a lot of meaning.
It describes the brookie and all that's about him.
Beautiful char. Thanks again for the use of the photo. The poem is very nice. I learned when I found it that the poet wrote it after the cousin he mentions had died while still young. Adds more meaning to that last line.
DeleteExcellent poem. And great photo to go along with it. BrkTrt lives life well on those streams for sure. Tight Lines.
ReplyDeleteYep. I don't want to move, but I envy him his Brookie streams.
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