Discovering Clay Lake Poem by Raymond Farrell

We came on it unexpectedly
My father-in-law and I
Had been following Indian creek
Angling for trout to fry.

One let down after another
Hole after hole gone dry
Turned to brackish mud
By the heat of mid-July.

Too late, he kept repeating
Should've been here in the Spring
They've all gone back to the river
We won't catch a thing.

A bit more hard slogging
And I saw the trees break
What I mistook for a clearing
Ended up being Clay Lake.

Within the hour our luck had turned
We caught four trout, a dozen mud pout
Finished lunch, packed out gear
And were happily heading out.