Photo Essay


To Everyone I’ve Ever Fished With  (An Incomplete List)

You drove across the desert seven hours for me and waited patiently, reading newspapers and listening to the radio while I learned the effectiveness of the San Juan worm on its namesake river, fishing in rolled-up blue jeans, skin also blue like icicles.

After graduation, wearing a bikini top and oversized waders with a wilted dandelion in your hair, you caught trout and a pair of one-lensed sunglasses on a size-10 20-incher and we both wished you didn’t have to move so soon…

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