Note from Flagstaff

By Jon Carver

Note from Flagstaff.

Arizona, Utah, New Mexico, Colorado. Real America. Mountain, desert, Mormons, the city without limitation or possibility. Land of mirage, phantom, dream, psychosis. What I thought was a ghost was merely trash bags on barbed wire. Golden hour at sunset. Golden hour at noon, wildfire. Ronald McDonald. Ozymandias.

Road closed. Snow falls straight and ash is random. No fire in the canyon but close.  For fish and people reprieve comes after disaster. Here It Is. The campaign against reality. F-150s, 250s, 350s, 450s and 666s of the southern army amassed on all sides like tanks at Fallujah. Advance to the forest. Hot dog kinetic engagement. Al-Qaeda of the mind. Camp fire, cigarette butt, Smokey Bear has third degree burns over 90% of his body. Zero percent containment.

Have you heard about Japanese fly fishing? Tenkara, yes. Good. I’ll let you know next time I’m going. Right now the creek is either on fire or nearly on fire so that situation has to resolve.

It’ll be fine.

Land of enchantment. Land of encampment. Male enhancement. 

I will put a sign in the heavens, my promise to mankind, never again will I drown the world. 

Smoke.

---

Jon Carver lives in the Southwest. 

Do you have a story to tell? A photo to share? A fly recipe that’s too good to keep secret? If you would like to contribute content to Tenkara Angler, click HERE for more details.