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The school of trout continued to move closer to me, and was now within casting range. The hawk above my head calmly watched the action ensue. There were trout right there on the surface, a mere 10 yards in front of me, and I figured I had only seconds until the hawk made her move. …
“Wow it’s calm” is what I recall saying to my buddy Andrew Massard, as I looked out over the pond, which resembled a pane of glass. This was one of those mornings I had fantasized about back when the Cape was still buried in snow. Apparently others had been dreaming of this day as well, …
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