An early chill knocked on the cabin door. Uncharacteristically cold frost on the grass. Me waving my arms back and forth as if it was February, searching for some wood and kindling. Only to find an old picture frame and rolling stone issue good enough, it would do until i started breakfast Finally the morning Sun shone through, to supply enough heat until the Spring afternoon arrived. Racoon came waddling, with the smell of left over eggs and such. Ol’ Donnie the dog would not be sharing and told the racoon so. Putting on boots and and grabbing my tackle hiked through Riverdale woods, to supposedly catch lunch, though there was a pond full in the freezer. Leaning back against a large rock and pulling my cap over my eyes, I waited for a tug on the line.

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