Editors Note: The following is from Issue 20.

 

I cast a fly that floats like a moth and wait as it drifts into the nearest pool. The water is flat as a mirror and in its reflection I can see the color of the sky changing from light blue to orange and then to lilac. Night falls. While we take down and put away our tackle, a kingfisher observes us from a fallen tree trunk on the opposite shore. We set off filled with that warm satisfaction of a good day’s fishing, carrying bags filled with hooks, improvised BBQ grills, cans and bottles that we found scattered everywhere. In addition to releasing all of the fish, we try to leave as little trace on the riverbank as possible.