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c975a16 Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery. fish earth man loss nature world wonder past parable brooks glens environment trout mystery destruction creation maps Cormac McCarthy
65b6747 USED TROUT STREAM FOR SALE. MUST BE SEEN TO BE APPRECIATED. trout-stream trout Richard Brautigan
73a81f0 I remember mistaking an old woman for a trout stream in Vermont, and I had to beg her pardon. trout Richard Brautigan
306ba53 The fish was a twelve-inch rainbow trout with a huge hump on its back. A hunchback trout. trout Richard Brautigan
ae54105 My bare foot sounded like a sad trout flapping against the marble floor. funny trout Kevin Hearne