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klingy
Active member
- Joined
- Jul 31, 2010
- Messages
- 591
"They don't stock it!", he yelled from the top of a hill behind me.
I turned around, somewhat startled to hear someone addressing me loudly at 6:00 am on a Sunday.
Standing in the weeds at the edge of a parking lot was an older gentleman. He was wearing shorts and a red flannel shirt, and held a giant Sheetz coffee cup in his right hand.
"What?", I returned, holding my hand up to my ear like I hadn't heard him the first time. (I felt I needed to say something).
"They used to stock it, but they don't anymore.", he hollered.
"Oh, Ok - thanks!" I said, giving a "thumbs up".
He lingered at the top of the hill, seemingly satisfied that he had saved me from wasting a perfectly good few hours on a nice morning. I'm not sure if he expected me to turn around and sulk back to my truck, but I gave a quick wave, and continued to tie on my dropper. He rocked back on his heels, and then forward on his toes, turned around, and disappeared behind the crest of the hill.
I continued down to the stream, thinking about his advice. After a few minutes, the first brown quietly came to hand. I released it quickly, and it left a muddy trail as it wriggled back into the silently waving cress. I smiled as I slowly moved upstream. It was a shame to squander a beautiful morning on such futility!
I turned around, somewhat startled to hear someone addressing me loudly at 6:00 am on a Sunday.
Standing in the weeds at the edge of a parking lot was an older gentleman. He was wearing shorts and a red flannel shirt, and held a giant Sheetz coffee cup in his right hand.
"What?", I returned, holding my hand up to my ear like I hadn't heard him the first time. (I felt I needed to say something).
"They used to stock it, but they don't anymore.", he hollered.
"Oh, Ok - thanks!" I said, giving a "thumbs up".
He lingered at the top of the hill, seemingly satisfied that he had saved me from wasting a perfectly good few hours on a nice morning. I'm not sure if he expected me to turn around and sulk back to my truck, but I gave a quick wave, and continued to tie on my dropper. He rocked back on his heels, and then forward on his toes, turned around, and disappeared behind the crest of the hill.
I continued down to the stream, thinking about his advice. After a few minutes, the first brown quietly came to hand. I released it quickly, and it left a muddy trail as it wriggled back into the silently waving cress. I smiled as I slowly moved upstream. It was a shame to squander a beautiful morning on such futility!