During the month of June, we wait. We watch and walk and cast and scan afar. For the busting splashes made to balled-up Bunker. For the dark bands of baitfish pressed upon the shallows of a beach. Those invigorating invitations made in heavy pursuit by the migratory giants we hope to lure into surface-popping explosion. For the music of our reels to sound in the soothing ballads of battle between tugging man and fighting fish.
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