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The ol' fishin' hole__________Out back of Tuffy's Barn

About an hour before dawn I headed out for Tuffy's to get some shots of the pond at sunrise. I pulled off the dirt road, flanked by towering corn on one side, cattails on the other. A faint purple glow seeped over the eastern horizon. Mist floated above the water as blue herons waded on the far shore. The outline of an ancient farmhouse became more defined against the sky as the light brightened almost imperceptibly at first, then faster and faster, the colors a dancing reflection. It was hard not to imagine that the infamous Loomis Gang had enjoyed this same view on the way home from some nocturnal mischief more than a century ago. All in all, not a bad place to take a break and catch some rays. Or, of course, to wet a line, while the lead player struggles through dozens of takes trying to get it better than perfect. Remind me, and I'll bring some of Dad's tackle to the session...