“I always carry my pole with me,” you laughed, pulling up unexpectedly to a secluded pond by the side of the road. Then you brought out a bright yellow lure.
“Would you go for this if you were a little fish?” you asked.
“Sure,” I replied, trying to think like a brim.
You cast your line out over the water and I sat back in the shade watching, just watching, as you reeled the lure back to you over and over, trying this spot then that.
I could’ve sat there forever, just watching you fish.