September 19, 2026

I’d passed it in my car almost every day. It was an intriguing mystery, as is almost any body of water that I see, but have never fished.
This one was a mere mile from my house. Only two visible houses bordered Bryant Pond, and an abandoned sleep-away camp was the largest entity that occupied its shoreline. Every time I drove by the water, I fantasized about casting a lure toward the lily pads I could see from the road.