Tropical Storm Alexa

The image was from Tuesday morning, and I was hoping there was going to be a shot of sunrise in the background. Didn’t really turn out and the fish himself, he’s back in the water – wasn’t the right size. But I did get a picture.

Speckled Sunrise Kiss

Two more fish that morning, after the trout, caught a Sheepshead and a Red. Again, neither was big enough to keep.
Hardware: iPhone
Location: Matagorda Bay
Shooter: Haven

A thin band of rain washed over us, but we stayed out until well-past the point when the fishing was no longer productive since there was a storm coming.

At the fish camp, in the afternoon, stories.

“Bubba stayed here during Hurricane (Carla, Darla, Rebecca, I don’t know), and he said he wasn’t going to stay here during any more hurricanes.”

Apparently, it wasn’t that much fun.

“CNN was here, Bubba was there, on TV, hurricane party and all, just as drunk as Cooter Brown.”

Later, the TV was tuned to the Weather channel, and arrayed on the couch, that Virgo could really, really snore. Sawing logs.

“Why they name storms after boys, that’s just wrong.”

“Hey, I knew an Alex, buddy of mine dated her. Beautiful woman. Alex, yeah, that was her name.” (Sagittarius)

That was Tuesday, and before the evening was out, we’d spent some time casting into the Inter-Coastal Waterway while big rigs chugged by, so, we did fish until almost midnight.