But it truly bothered me. The fear, say, that this fish's spirit wouldn't live up to the rainbows' dream-inducing episode. That a dead trout is just a dead trout. Still, a single glance outdoors should have sufficiently reaffirmed my devout belief in spirits. For the hardwoods are only just now beginning to shed their spring halos, themselves certain proof of the spirit of the bud.
Further proof is the recurrence of flowers.
May. Either that, or the fish are bitin'.