a cut bank that bled

Shade mountain, Jacks Mountain, Penn's Creek. 
A Bobcat in the rear view mirror
with still a few gulps of coffee left in the parking lot.

I got pissed at the big water by noon. 
A morning of slight takes and spitting flies 
ended with two dudes dropping into the middle of the run I was fishing. 

I cut up the bank, crossed into the meadow and threw some hoppers. 
It was lunch, I was hungry. 
I had eaten my last granola bar an hour ago. 
I walked back to my truck and drove up the mountain
until I found a pull off
and the stream winding itself out and away
into the rhododendron and mountain laurel. 

I took one fly and my 6'10" rod.
Hiked into the woods
following the only path the water cut. 
A few deep plunges,
some shallow riffles,
a cut bank that bled
​into a hill of ferns,
some small brook trout 
and I was fishing. 

Eventually I reached the road, 
walked back to my truck and off to find lunch. 

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