When I ski I sometimes think how the warming thawing days of Spring will soon turn the snow into flowing creeks that will join the rivers that I will fish. For now, floating on snow gives me a peculiar sensation of being suspended slightly above the Earth, yet at the same time connected as I know "all things will merge into one."
Soon, the ice jams will melt and collapse. The slabs of ice will be no more. We, the fly fishers will again gather on the river.
For now, there is solitude as I move over the quiet flowing snow looking for fish below the seam lines of my imagination.
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