I was returning to my hometown after being abroad for almost a decade.

I was going from one of the most populated cities in Southeast Asia,

where I had managed to survive some nine years,

traversing endless seas of people,

subway stations, and taxis, and I was going back to my small town routes in North Carolina.

To say I was looking forward to my return trip would be an understatement. I'm a country boy

at heart, and even in the big city I never lost that part of me.

One of the first things on my long-to-do list was to get out to my parents' cabin

and break out some fishing poles around dusk and catfish long into the night.

Fishing had been a big part of my life and my favorite pastime before going abroad, and I couldn't

wait to cast out, get a line into the water. On my first night out to the cabin, I did just that.

It was a glorious night. I could not have dreamed of better conditions. It was a warm summer's

evening with fair skies and almost

a full moon, absolutely perfect for fishing. There was no question that I was going to do some

fishing down by the dock, even though my father had warned me it was pretty shallow out there.

The water could have been inches deep for all I cared. I just wanted to go fishing.

So that's what I did.

I set up my pole and I walked down to the dock and I readied myself a nice comfortable

spot.

With my pole rigged up and my first cold beer open and lying out in the water, I sat back

and took a moment. Finally, I was in my personal

little heaven. As I sat there, I decided to get out my camera and take a few shots of the

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