The last hour of the last day. I edged out into the run and lengthened the line before flexing the long Spey rod. The line sliced out towards the deep, emerald-green slot gleaming under the low cliff, and I settled into the meditative rhythm of “cast and step”. As the huge fly started to wake back across the glassy green water, the wind dropped and, once again, everything fell silent.
The last moment of silence
https://ift.tt/GUsP2uS The last moment of silence
https://ift.tt/zApLMm8
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