My friends, my visits to you seem to be less frequents these days. It's a matter of work I must tell you. My kind is a funny lot. We work to reward ourselves with things that are appealing to our senses. Once we acquire the things we desire we see even more things we covet and we work even more. Before we know it, we work, work, and work failing to remember the things that truly bring us pleasure.
You home is looking quite poorly and I am growing more concerned for you. The current has little flow and it looks to stop soon unless the rain comes. There is a chance for that this week and let us pray the winds push the rain to this southern sea of the grand prairie ocean.
If the rain is not enough and the flow stops then the food washing down to you will also stop. I will keep a close eye on your condition. If you need food I will bring you corn from a can, sweet feed from a bag, take bran and sweeten it with strawberry pop as the old salts say they once did.
What I can't do for you is bring you rain - that is the creator's job. What I can do is pray to the creator to let the rain come.
I met one of the citizens in the commune known as Big Well Springs. He was a crackerjack of your kind, feisty and full of fight for being such a young one.
I recorded his image with my memory maker and noticed how in the battle he had wrapped my leader around his pectoral fin and tangled it in the dorsal. After preserving his image I grabbed my leader to untangle the chap, but he became alarmed and flopped breaking off the gift I had offered him. He shouldn't be hard to spot now with a black curiosity with red tail in his lip as an adornment.
Charlie has sent you another postcard. He is spending his time at the grand pasture that bears his name and your kin there is still favoring the worm.
I may come check on you today if time allows. The rain is schedule to arrive in two days and I hope it will indeed come and stay around for a good while.
Prairie Ocean Fly Fisher