when i first saw you, you were tucked up tight against the bank, directly under an overhanging branch.
the day started slow. the water was high and off color. a few of your buddies ate a crayfish pattern. impulse. that's what i was counting on. the river itself wanted to pull me into it's brownish flow, the rocks were slick and angled all wrong. my shins took the worst of it.
i finally came to slow section, probably frog water at normal flows, but your pals took advantage, sipping mayflies from the weeks' rainfall in weak flows. i took advantage and used heavy tippet and picked my way up through them.
already a day well spent and i was about to climb out of your home when i saw you bulge subtly. i stood there, with water swirling and grouse drumming in the background, i stood there thinking...
...thinking that i'm glad to be in this place. glad to be surrounded by water, some familiar some new, all of it to be learned again. i almost lose focus thinking but then i catch you being more showey then you should have been. the slight splash made me think "maybe it's not such a big fish" and so i had the upper hand. with lowered consequence i back hand a cast that nips the branch and falls perfectly, unreasonably close.
the rest is in the past. you made a mistake and this time i did not.