"eventually, all things lead into one...

and a river runs through it."
-norman maclean

ahhh, rivers. creeks. brooks. streams. they babble and gurgle and riffle and roar at us.

it is rumored that da vinci said: "when you put your hand in a flowing stream, you touch the last that has gone before and the first of what is still to come."

and so it is with this life. the river is death and life all at once; every inch of it is the end of one journey and the beginning of another; every water molecule is on its millionth reincarnation.

this was certainly the case for my friend rob. five years ago yesterday he experienced a cataclysmic personal event that would bring one era of his life to a close, and open what has finally become a new and glorious one. in the firehole river of yellowstone national park, rob was baptized and reborn. he has recovered from an event that makes my soul shake just thinking about it, and i love him for that.

and now, i try to approximate the same, but on a smaller scale. every evening on the water, the sound of the rapids and the reflection of the sun allow me to slowly forget the day before and become that rhythmic, pulsing version of myself. you say to yourself: it's just fishing, right? but it is becoming so much more.

yesterday around 5, the second hardest downpour of the summer ripped through town. the entire process took about 45 minutes, and as i loaded up the dogs to come fishing with me the sun had already returned. by the time i was on the water the air was still cool and the trees were dripping, and the sun was burning bright.

the rain turned the color of the water to chocolate. after 200 casts without a fish, just before sunset i hooked into a beautiful 14 inch rainbow.

i am learning patience and persistence.