She was young and impressionable. So I talked her off her limb

and she demonstrated that she knew how to fish. She danced and dove, swerved and tumbled, and relished in her onlooker’s delight. Or so I believe.

Her parents can be proud. She followed us like herons do, flying above our heads for a two-mile stretch as we paddled along the upper Jacks Fork River.

Then the storms hit. Terrible, thrashing storms.

I hope her home survived, or she’ll have to move back in with her parents.