Blog
Florida Fishermen
A hazy fog has settled upon the endless line of ocean, chasing away the bikini-clad tourists and leaving only fishermen; the same fishermen, who appear like dew upon the rocks every morning before anyone can wake up to see how they got there. A light drizzle patters against the yellow raincoat of one. Five men cast their lines from every corner of their boat by a post in the bay, the same spot they fished yesterday; and I marvel that the aquatic occupants there haven’t learned to find alternative residence yet.
Another Summer at Lake Wallenpaupack, PA
Baby fish begin leaping to catch a net of bugs that hover just above the water’s surface, and when they fall it looks like rain. Their silver bellies catch the light in paparazzi flashes about me. They do this at the same time every year—just like the baby toads that hop across the beach, and the tiger swallowtail butterflies, punctually filling the lake bushes with their delicate yellow wings each summer.