Falls of Neuse: Part 2

November 9th 2022

After a short while, I stood to my feet and began casting. The rhythmic sway and flick of my wrist caught the attention of The Heron and he watched as the caddis floated back and forth through the air before settling in an eddy and swirling in its wake, taunting whatever lay beneath. He remained in poised observation until I sat down for a rest and to gather my thoughts. Only then would his focus return to the swirling countercurrent below. 

We took turns in this way for what seemed like a couple of hours but soon the sun grew higher and increasingly more indomitable above us. The Heron, having more success than I, took off into the air and with several flaps of his wings, disappeared over the treeline and out of sight. The world soon became eerily still and quiet in his absence. 

Having never fished alone on a river such as this, I felt thankful for his presence, often reflecting on the eb and flow of our movements that day on the Falls of Neuse. His poise and knowledge, as I have come to understand and appreciate, is something even the masters of the river would envy. When I return to this place, I wait in silence, longing for his return.