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Showing posts from September, 2015

Fabled Channels of Flowing Catfish

I told Kip and Uncle Rico about a magical lake that drains at low tide revealing channels of flowing catfish that you can catch with a bucket.


So we set sail, testing the waters as we went...


...but the pelicans already knew.


Cafeteria queue 


Uncle Rico strikes a classic heroic beer drinking pose
(I call this one the '10 o'clock meeting')


Last Friday when I left work, I thought I caught the faintest hint of autumn gently wafting on the breeze. This scene seemed to confirm the arrival of fall, but Uncle Rico reminded me we were downstream from a super fund site.


End of summer lakes leave broad fertile plains around their perimeters.


Uncle Rico and Kip engage in a competition to see who can catch the smallest fish.


Dr. Jekyll clouds begin their amazing transformations. Far-away rumblings are carried on the wind.


Even though the waning tide has begun to suck all the water out of the lake promising the writhing rivulets of catfish I described, our collective reasoning dictates that we s…