This is where the writing goes.
This is where I talk sunburnt shoulders and cold toes; about canyons and thin sky and clear water and sandstone rocks that fall and splash into the river at night and the cicadas that fall and splash into the river and get eaten by rainbow trouts.
This is where I talk about river backhauls with Holly the Hauler and bags of wine, rain and waterfalls, sandy tent floors and pan seared strip steaks, pontoons and five weights, sink tips with olive cone-head buggers, floating line with big black foam creatures; hoppers and droppers and stoppers and floppers.
This is where I talk about my father and my uncle, family and good times, learning and teaching and how important they all are.
This is where you look at pictures.
This is where I write -A.