Morning at Lake Red Haw

choppy and cold river, white foam is gathering as if it has been in a blender there is no sound this morning, no bird speak, no crickets, it is silent I dipped my hand into the water, it was freezing like a frozen halibut. A peanut butter cup made its way to my mouth, I tasted salt and chocolate I could smell fish this morning, a dead bass or bluegill, most probably.