Lakeshore Lacuna

Fly fishing the big waters has become tedious of late. I have lost the battle of will in casting the huge and heavy bass flies over and over without a thrashing smash to the surface – I’ll keep to the trout -stalking in the mountains.

The warm rocks are form fitted for lounging in the sun, although not below the breeze enough to evade a slight chill.

The dense sunlight does griddle the cranium a slight bit without a shielding hat pulled down sideways for a quick nap. Stillness allows the mutant creatures to scuttle the lakeshore without notice of the rock-melded human frame, perhaps it was the fear of vultures or sinister striped bass or more latent sunstroke dissecting thought but I think this beast was skulking close:

The thought became extreme and too solid for reality. I left those rocks to the sun as it faded behind blue clouds. Delirium skewed fast to hebetude and the need for thought provoking elixir; this is my justification for the taproom and magic brew.

…even better than Boodles,,,,