When the Water Came Alive at First Light

The swamp's chorus drowned my alarm clock - bullfrogs croaking, barred owls hooting, and something big sliding off a submerged log just beyond my headlamp's glow. I gripped my rod tighter, the cork handle still warm from yesterday's battle. Topwater season had arrived.

My topwater lure landed with a kiss beside the cypress knees. Three twitches. Nothing. 'Should've brought the spinnerbaits,' I muttered, watching dawn bleed across the tea-colored water. Then the surface bulged like a lava lamp. Line screamed off the reel as the world exploded in spray and thrashing green.