Just A Fish

 

Fishing was slow today. There we were, on the banks of Lake Whitney in the afternoon sun of a November Texan afternoon. Cast, retrieve, behold the beauty of lake, sky and majestic cranes sweeping across the water, but definitely not tight lines. Huh.

Then down went the rod to the left of me. Whoa, action! Something's on and lo and behold, the fun of a light rod. Up came a Black Drum who went back to fight again another day. Great result, unlike, say, today's election result in NYC.

Then, as the sun was beginning to set and the hour for catching had almost arrived, we climbed back in the rig to head for the Compound and the Super Moon. A good day had by all.

Fish On,

LSP

Alright? Rollright

 

Years ago, whaddya do? Drive out of London for the ROLLRIGHT STONES. Set up with a few tarps, grill venison on ye olde homely fire pit, drink a few Hackney Spritzers and then go to the stones as the Moon waxes full.

And there they were, us and the ancient stones themselves, shining in the silvery light of the moon, so ghostly Selene. Witch way? But no Wild Hunt. No UFOs. No ghosts. No portals to another time and space, or were there? Maybe not so fast.

Mr. Winwood sings about it in his acclaimed song:

Rock on kids,

LSP