A young man of about 9 joins me as I land and release a second and third sunfish. He watches quietly, afraid to ask. I ask, answering the unspoken question, then hand him the rod. He whipped the old rod a couple of times, slapping the popper down in the lake, grinning at his success. A bluegill hit the popper hard enough to almost jerk the rod out of his hands.
Reactions take over and the fish sails out water, flopping at our feet.
I removed the popper. He asked, speaking for the first time. Without waiting for a answer, he grasped the fish using two hands and left me once again alone on the shore. The sun broke through gray clouds, answering my unspoken questions. Life goes on.