Bow Channel in the early morning. I love summers in the Keys, and I had the stillness and the fishing bridge to myself.
Of course I was not completely alone. Cheyenne was busy hunting dead bait fish. She loves them all smelly and dried by the sun.
There was one dead fish Cheyenne could not reach, the line caught in the power cables leaving the poor soul to dangle for eternity hopefully not snagging some hungry bird in a chain of death by fishhook.
Cheyenne is not terribly keen on banana peel or orange rinds but she gave them a look see. Why oh why cannot these people who seek the munificence of the sea, have the least consideration for the rest of us and throw their trash in one of the many bins put out for their use?
I put it in the trash, unwilling to carry that barb all the way to the end of the bridge and the special mono filament tubes set out for that purpose. That hook wasn't going anywhere once I stuffed it in the trash.
There are cobwebs of this stuff dangling from the power lines. These people need casting lessons.