HIGH ROCK PICKEREL

 My teacher & traveling companion Bryan taught  once again the concept of “flow”. It all flows. This is no more apparent to me than in the frigid blue green waters that my spirit guide the pickerel glides through. I am a man of the north. My ancestors are Vikings & Highland Scots. I live in one of the northern most cities of the world.  Winter is my mood & my vision. In my mind’s eye I see the swirl & striation, the strata & shimmer of cold waters. The fish & I know each other. We swim in the same deep stillness. I ease back into the easy chair. I open my fingers. Let the bubbles stream beyond me. I join the flow. I flow. Flow... just flow my friends... that’s all there is... flow...