 "freely drifting, I prowl the woods and streams  Summer is here. Nettles are in full throttle. I walk through them when I'm looking up, paying no mind to my steps, tramping towards the next fence or bend in the stream, trying to avoid another groundhog hole. It's never intentional. Sometimes necessary. Cold water soothes the sting, but long after my legs are still mottled with the red scratches of their thin hairs. Though, just the other day, I thought I was in the middle of a field of nettles, mixed in with high grass, but soon realized it was mint. The breeze filled with the cracked leaves and I rubbed some on my fingertips and on the fly I was casting.  Another day, last week, I found myself walking the banks of Penns, watching for the air to fill with bugs. It was morning, which I tend to enjoy fishing more than the evening. There's an anticipation that can last an entire day in the morning. The evening offers a quick spike in the denouement of the day. It's subtle and reassuring but there's always a solemnity in it for me. Looking up, I realize my shoulder just passed through a cobweb full of Green Drakes. They got caught as they were leaving their branches to drop eggs into the water late last night. Some of their wings still twitched.  I promised Whitman a long walk today. We explored a couple of ponds set back from the trail between a copse of trees and a cornfield. There, he could bark at the ducks and I could throw a popper for bass.  Check out the latest issue of Susquehanna Life Magazine for my essay on the Susquehanna River, "Bringing a River into Focus".
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