The morsel lands without so much as a ripple and settles atop the tension that defines the eddy's surface. It rests but a moment as the downhill pull of the stream delivers its budding iciness to the meadows below, the rivulet performing its dance as it had for millennia.Originally Posted by tacklejunkie
Oh!
Beautiful.
Feeling an age-old tug, the tidbit slowly turns, ever caressing the water's invisible skin. And it joins the deliverance of summer's bounty parading through the slack water.
Wise old O. Mykiss saw the scene unfold as she had countless times prior, saw the dusting of seed and spore fall from the air and onto the rooftop of her lair. But wait! What’s this? “A more delectable specimen I have not yet seen until today!” thinks she as the winged wonder settles onto the water and begins its mating tease, that slow turn and slight wiggle, to float downstream that must quickly draw her a mate.
And with a move perfected with the practice of a million repetitions, she turns her powerful broom-like tail to the current and rises to the surface, devouring the unsuspecting creature in a cartwheel of sated glee.
Fresh One!!!
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