On opening day, April 1st, I usually come across Paulette Bunyan, the great great great grand daughter of Paul. There she is, standing at the water's edge, glancing slightly as I approach from the left. Her gaze is firm; it is upon the ice and water. As the approaching sun illuminates her face, I grab my fly and flicker the Marabou in her direction. Her hair shines like the fine hairs of a buck's tail; it makes me feel strong.

Paulette's body is strong and firm; it does not waver in the grip of winter. She walks at her own pace turning her back to me. I am excited as I wait in anticipation. Then slightly, ever so slightly, she turns to greet me. I am beckoned by her shimmering light. I am rejuvenated by her warmth. She smiles, I am afraid to look at her diectly in the face. She is persistent, and I can not ignore her. Her presence has a strong and lasting affect on me. I grab my fly; my line and rod yearn for excitement.

Paulette is my friend. I can trust in her greeting me at stream's edge year after year. She is as dependable as the rising sun. She is a friend that will slowly disappear at summer's end, and her fertility is great.

Her bees fertilize the plants as I lazily lay in the hammock enjoying her embrace. She warms me like no other. Her hair is like the fine wisp of a foxes winter coat. She takes it from the fox to bury in her bosom. I nestle my nose in the warmth she has gathered for me. Oh, how I miss her when she makes her annual trip south. She is my desire, my temptress and my confidant, the rearer of my child, the embodiment of life.

Winter's grip has no hold on Paulette, it melts away in the presence of her grace. She is all in me that I want to be. She is women, she is man.

Welcome Paulette! I look forward to our future escapades. Escapades that will take us out into the garden, escapades that will fill my rod and line with the excitement of a five pound Landlocked. You are my bride Paulette and it is time for us to.....

Welcome Spring!

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