He turned, lifted his head slightly and said, “I only fly-fish.” We were standing twenty feet apart on the rocky shore of an estuary in Nova Scotia casting 8 wts for stripers. I felt an uncomfortable pressure to agree. Which I did, however it was a lie. I felt conflicted. I fly fish as a …...

There were many long nights, unable to move. I willed myself to dream of being able to walk and wade a trout stream. Sinking deep inside myself to filter out the beeps, gurgles, groans and muffled conversations of the ward. My intent was to channel all I had left cerebrally, into the ability to just …...

The spool is emptying in head shaking lurches. I glance out over the white cap, foaming fast water cascading through the causeway and see Ernie’s impressive white church on the bank above the river. Not a denomination but rather an ownership, though Ernie can sermonize on politics and his beloved Philadephia Eagles! This striper is...

I have found the place that I want to dig in, dig deep and immerse myself. I want a baptism, a conversion, a rebirth so I can feel that I belong to this place. Though, I know I cannot be one of them, a local. I have the wrong name, the wrong birthplace, and definitely …...