That first photo is amazing, what species do you get in your neck of the wood. I'm in two minds about going fishing tomorrow here in ireland as it may be cold but those photos amke me realise I don't know what cold is.
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Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
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