I’d always known the water—cool, flowing, sheltering. In its currents, I had spent my days as a nymph, tucked beneath the stones and natural debris. The river was my home, my safety, where I could feed, mature without to much worry. But there was something deeper inside me, something I couldn’t quite name. It had been growing for days, an itch under my skin so to say, a pull toward the surface.
Today, the pull was unbearable. I couldn’t stop it. I tumbled off the stone the had been my home and I broke through the surface, feeling the weight of the water release me, and suddenly I was… light. I shed my casing with much effort My body had grown delicate. Wings—yes, wings—unfurled from my back, wet and fragile like the new dawn. What was this new world above? It shimmered and glowed.
Hope. It filled me. The sky, limitless and vast, whispered promises of something more. I lifted off the water and climbed into the air, wobbly at first but gaining strength, feeling the wind beneath me. I was made for this! The river below me became a distant memory.
But then… danger. A shadow flashed across the surface—silent, swift. A bird, its beak sharp and hungry, dove at me from nowhere. My new wings, so graceful moments ago, faltered. I spiraled in the air, narrowly avoiding its deadly grasp. I felt panic rise in me—what was I? Why was I here? Is this all there is?
More shadows moved below. The water rippled ominously as trout eyes watched from beneath, waiting for me to tire, to fall.
Despair gnawed at my insides. Was I only meant to be eaten? Was my transformation nothing but a fleeting moment of beauty, a brief life in the jaws of some greater predator?
But then, something stirred deep inside me. A memory, maybe, or instinct, telling me this was not the end. Not yet. I wasn’t meant to die here. I had more to do. I felt a new surge of energy, my wings catching a favorable wind, pulling me up, away from the hungry trout and snapping beaks.
I darted between the trees, weaving through leaves, narrowly avoiding another grasp. I could feel it now, a purpose—an unspoken command imprinted on me before I was even born. I had to survive, to mate, to give life to the next generation.
With a sudden burst of speed, I shot higher, soaring into the open sky where nothing could catch me. And in that moment, I knew. The world was harsh and filled with danger, but I had my part in it. I wasn’t just prey. I was part of something bigger, a cycle that stretched endlessly into the future.
I wasn’t afraid anymore.
I found a quiet space, hidden away from prying eyes, and began the final task that I had been brought here to do—laying the seeds of new life.
Tight Lines
Glenn On The Fly 