| |
Fisk?
As we headed down the
dirt road south, we passed a man who was fishing in one of the nearby
lakes. He'd already caught a bag full of fish, and as we chatted about
life's philosophies ("all I need to do is this, it is my dinner every
night."), he reeled-in another. He promptly offered us the fish to
supplement our provisions of candy bars, nuts and noodles. But we had
no way clean, store, or cook the fish. He seemed to understand this,
and bid us farewell with a hearty smile.
|
|
