Describe the joy of fishing in one sentence...

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It's more than one sentence and not my own words. It's paraphrased from the epilogue of "A River Runs Through It", but it speaks of the quiet joy of fishing.

I am too old to be much of a fisherman now. I usually fish the waters alone in the half-light of the evening, when all existence fades to a being within my soul and memories and the sounds of the river and the hope that a fish will rise. Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it.
 
DocWatson said:
It's more than one sentence and not my own words. It's paraphrased from the epilogue of "A River Runs Through It", but it speaks of the quiet joy of fishing.

I am too old to be much of a fisherman now. I usually fish the waters alone in the half-light of the evening, when all existence fades to a being within my soul and memories and the sounds of the river and the hope that a fish will rise. Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it.

Poetry in true form!
 
DocWatson said:
It's more than one sentence and not my own words. It's paraphrased from the epilogue of "A River Runs Through It", but it speaks of the quiet joy of fishing.

I am too old to be much of a fisherman now. I usually fish the waters alone in the half-light of the evening, when all existence fades to a being within my soul and memories and the sounds of the river and the hope that a fish will rise. Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it.

=D>
 
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