CHASING TROUT IN UNTAMED WATERS

The sun beat down on the glassy surface of the lake, a glistening mirror reflecting the towering pines that fringed its shores. The air was thick with the scent of pine needles, and a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, whispering secrets only the old forest appreciated. I stood at the water's edge, my wader-clad feet sunk into the soft soil,