When Moonlight Revealed the Ripples

3:17AM. The dashboard clock's pale glow illuminated my thermos of black coffee as tires hummed against gravel road. Lake Martin's western shore materialized under moonglow, its mirrored surface broken only by occasional 复合旋转亮片 strikes from feeding bass.

'Should've brought the heavier line,' I muttered, fingers tracing the 8lb 碳氟导线 spool. My kayak cut through liquid mercury, stopping above submerged timber. First cast sent a craw-pattern jig plopping between skeletal branches. Nothing.

By sunrise, seven lures had danced fruitlessly. Dragonflies skittered across warming water when it happened - a silver flash beneath my paddle. I froze. Shadows coalesced into a wolfpack of 3lb crappie. Heart thundering, I clipped on a micro-swimbait...

The rod doubled over without warning. Drag screamed as unseen force dove toward root systems. 'Not this time,' I whispered, thumb pressing spool. For twenty breathless seconds, man and fish waltzed through drowned forests. When net finally engulfed iridescent scales, laughter echoed across the awakening lake.

Driving home, I kept glancing at the passenger seat. The empty cooler seemed fuller than any limit catch.