A bright watery beam of moonlight nestles in the thick dark sky specked with diamond plates. Long, thin, dry reeds reach
for the bringer of spring and neap tides. A soft, chilling breeze bites at the tips of my fingers, working like an anaesthetic,
numbing my muscles. Soft droplets of water descending from above twinkle like a prism under the Sun, streaks of the
spectrum pouring out of each tender droplet, drawing attention to the beauty of a very light drizzle.
Tall, thin blades of lusciously moist, fresh green grass accompany a gentle whistle of the night's breath. The slow flow of
the river lets of a tiny trickle, a bare tenth of the winter's rushing, flooding and dunking sounds as the river swallows huge
gasps of air. The light of the silken moon shimmers on the cold, biting surface of the stream.
Suddenly a slow squelch drowns the soft night, beckoning to be heard by a passer-by. A few barely audible clicks to
accompany the squelch and then both stop. A rustle sound from the ferns and 'CRACK', the loud bang of a shotgun
fills the air followed by a high-pitched moaning. A patter of feet and all is quiet, except for the soft sound of nature and
my thumping heart.
I crouch in my small hole on the bank of the river, shaking like a furious rattlesnake. Slowly, very slowly, I calm down
and, just as I lean back on the soil, a long buzz screeches into my ear. My fishing rod tilts and points toward the water. I
reach forward and grasp the rod, finally clenching the rod between my insensate palms and levering the tip as I reel in the
Out of dark comes another deafening 'CRACK.' I quickly drop my rod and grab my side. A terribly sharp, rough, cutting
pain stabs at me. I grit my teeth, clench in a ball and ache. But, amongst all the clenching and aching I find myself in my