Perhaps it is the rhythmic sounds of the life-giving water as it swirls over timeless granite boulders and rocks, or the lush-dank smell of the laurel and trees that feed therefrom its pours that attracts me to such remote environs; wherein beautiful-hued wild trout exist and rise to the cast of my dry flies. And more often than not, I am compelled (sometimes at the drop of a hat) to leave everything amiss or behind and enter the realm where wild trout become the simple cure . . .

KJM

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