It Is Those We Live With And

The World Is Full Of Bastards, The Number Increasing Rapidly The Further One Gets From Missoula, Montana.

In Our Family, There Was No Clear Line Between Religion And Fly Fishing. We Lived At The Junction Of Great Trout Rivers In Western Montana, And Our Father Was A Presbyterian Minister And A Fly Fisherman Who Tied His Own Flies And Taught Others. He Told Us About Christ's Disciples Being Fishermen, And We Were Left To Assume, As My Brother And I Did, That All First-class Fishermen On The Sea Of Galilee Were Fly Fishermen And That John, The Favorite, Was A Dry-fly Fisherman.

He Told Us About Christ's Disciples Being Fisherman, And We Were Left To Assume...that All Great Fishermen On The Sea Of Galilee Were Fly Fisherman And That John, The Favorite, Was A Dry-fly Fisherman.

...life Every Now And Then Becomes Literature...as If Life Had Been Made And Not Happened.

Ahead And To The West Was Our Ranger Station - And The Mountains Of Idaho, Poems Of Geology Stretching Beyond Any Boundaries And Seemingly Even Beyond The World.