Spring

The Mountain Village is still winter on the day I met the trouts again.
I looked forward to meet Trout again so much.
Only the sun on the road tell us that budding is near.

Early spring in The Mountain Village. Snow is still left in the shade.
The Mourning cloak butterfly that had gotten through the winter follows me
to suck up water through my sweaty shirt when I am fishing on a nice day.

I can watch countless baby trouts 2.8 or 3.2 inches long.
They swarm in shallows of the bank,
when the snow melts and the milky water becames transparent.
They are surprised and do not know what to do.
They run away in all directions when I come close to them.

Little trouts jump out one after another innocently to catch my fly,
so I retreat immediately. I associate lingering snow on the mountain
where plants just started to grow with char of speckles on the trouts.
My feelings were enriched by the sound of the stream,
smell of earth and plants.

Spring