His presence is announced by the ring of a rise, and everyone's attention turns to the rushing water. It's October in the southern Appalachians, and as he writhes downstream and into the awaiting hands of his most devoted fan, donning the brilliant oranges, greens, reds, and blues of the spawning season's fashion, I stand ready, like paparazzi, to attempt to preserve my reverence for his form in a photograph.
Photo by Matt Reilly |
The shutter snaps, his gills pulsating in the cold mountain water, and he leaves the spotlight with a splash--gone until the next event.
Today I spent photographing for an upcoming article for Eastern Fly Fishing on a well-known mountain stream in Virginia. From behind a camera, it's overwhelming--the beauty of nature in fall, in all its colors and moods. In fall, the blaze of color and pigments kept hidden in the crevices of the stream in the gaunt form of the magnificent brook trout explode from the water and color the Earth. And it is then that I rejoice in knowing that wild, natural beauty persists, and am grateful for my involvement in it.□
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