How to Set Yourself Straight By Mark Usyk
I'm Not Superstitious by Mark Usyk
In a couple places there was just enough room for the canoe to pass in between protruding limbs and naked, sun-bleached trunks. They looked like old bones. Skeletons of the woods in their temporary resting places until higher waters would eventually move them again. They’d end up in the lake someday as smaller, whiter, polished driftwood stacked against a far shore.
Another Trout by Mark Usyk
Suddenly by Mark Usyk
Just how it suddenly it felt like their young baseball days passed by so fast, the creek was suddenly low and the water temperature had risen. And where I am on my creek, just below a man-made impoundment of concrete, that means something; It meant the browns on this last couple miles of water had all dropped downstream into the next river, and that the bass had moved up in.
The Beginning of Trout Season by Mark Usyk
It was a week into trout season. So we went perch fishing.
Possibilities by Mark Usyk
With the temperature right around thirty-five degrees the precipitation coming down all day was wet. It’s an odd place to find yourself. Standing in water only a degree warmer than the air, looking at everything you see covered in snow, while rain soaks and adds four pounds of cold to your favorite hat.