Perfect days.
Order and simplicity. Something like that.
Up early and fished out on the east side. Didn’t catch anything, but sure had me some fun, all by myself, just me, the fish teasing me as I was wandering along the trail, fish jumping and feeding, just not interested in anything I had in my pockets – or the end of the fishing line. I was thinking it was a pretty perfect day. If I’d just started a little earlier, I could’ve caught some topwater action. I was a few minutes late for it, the sun creeping over the horizon before I got to that special place. Still, I fished on top and then worked my way down through the water column until I lost a lure to a snag on the bottom. Except for not catching any fish, it was pretty perfect.
Until I hit the Congress Bridge. Much traffic, of the pedestrian sort, and there was some big event going, “Traffic will be blocked on May 31.”
So I wandered on down to the First Street Bridge, figuring I’d just walk around the event. No such luck. I was stuck, wandering in and amongst throngs of folks, me with my fishing pole in hand, looking like some kind of a lost soul.
Late lunch – with clients – for a reading – at Bouldin Creek Coffee. Then I wandered on home.
It sure felt a lot like Planet Houston, middle of the afternoon, with humidity and temperature both hovering close to 100. A brief storm slashed through. Yee-haw! Rain, marble-sized hail, and sunshine – all at the same time[/I>.
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