Carried Off by Sounds of the Road and Return to the Point of a Fish Hook

Weather felt right. Perhaps I just didn't have enough time to fish, 20 minutes. I looked 180 degrees to the right of this view photographed and remembered fishing for bass in May in a far corner of Round Valley.

The months since that time have been full of ideas and images for the three novels I've been working on. It feels like I've never had a bad day on the road for my job this entire six months, and I can think of only a few that weren't very pleasurable. Now I'm working on one novel to actually try and finish, rather than running around in a thousand directions at once.

I had plenty of time today to concentrate and get words on paper fished from the bottom depths, not only scattered to the winds and reflected light, or carried off by sounds of the road having become lingual phrases creatively transfigured by mental overdrive.

But I did take about a month's hiatus from actually typing this first novel I hope to finish, and finally realized I need a shot of ordinary reality to get started again. So if I get some time to fish Round Valley, catch trout, and possibly fish the canal for some of that ambulatory exercise I enjoy, expect posts to get more to the point of a fish hook.

Will there be ice in New Jersey this winter? If so, I plan to ice fish at least a couple of times. But my guess is that this winter will be another mild one. I was right last early December, but I was more certain then, too. Who knows.