Trout and Time

I walked guardedly over to the water’s edge and looked in. With a lifelong awareness that fish are wary, to my surprise there he was the same Trout that I had first seen as a boy and had chased incessantly for the rest of my life. I squinted, a trait I had picked up in middle age as a means to focus my aging eyes and peered intently at the clear water. Now more than the water was clear. Of all the important things I had forgotten in my lifetime, this recall was as real as the day it occurred. I was six and one half back then going on seven. Half years mattered back then. The time between birthdays seemed like an eternity. I laughed because no one on earth really had a clue what eternity was like.

Trout splashed and swam away notreally seeming to care as much about time as me.


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