The morning dew lies heavily on the ground. The fog is thick as you near the waters edge. The only illumination is from a distant street light near the marina, an orange halo of light surrounds the bulb. The water looks like it is liquid coal at this time of morning and there is a chill in the air, even though it is early summer. You can barely make out the outline of the trees …showed first 75 words of 571 total…

…showed last 75 words of 571 total…hear. The dawn is beginning to break; it’s almost light enough to safely begin launching the boats. The smell of gasoline/oil mixtures stinging your nose brings you back to the task at hand, putting more fish in the live-well than the other fishermen. You know this is going to be “your day”. After all, you’ve already heard that trophy fish calling your name as he splashed near the shallows when you arrived.