Expected my son would nail a bass immediately by the culvert, the entryway of rainwater just after the heavy thunderstorm had passed through, clouds remaining pretty dense, as you can see in the photo. Nothing hung there during the several times we tried it during a half hour, although Matt left after 10 minutes to meet a friend, leaving me with my wife, Patricia, and our black Lab.
By that time, I caught a small one, and pretty soon another bigger than this bass photographed, caught along that shoreline captured in the photo, behind me. Here where I stand with this next bass, water had a muddy density, and bass hit almost one right after the other as dusk set in, my wife and I conversing, the bass secondary to what we had to say, though I got some interjections in.
"Look at that, Trish! Did you see how it exploded on the surface? This is a nice one."
Well, all of the five more measured about the same as the bass photographed, one or two just seemed bigger at first, another had a length of about a foot, another nine inches or so. After the fateful winter of 2014/2015 when dozens of bass as big and bigger than these I caught today died, killed by anoxic conditions under ice, Matt and I finding them all along shorelines, one of them Matt found at least five pounds, after all this, there's still a lot of fish. It's just that seven bass this size in a half hour used to be pretty slow, especially just after heavy rain.