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I don't know what the big lesson learned from this was, if any at all. Maybe it's that I should enjoy fishing as it comes, good or bad, and don't get too frantic about it. When the fishing is that great, it makes up for the occasional slumps we all have. During the peak of the frenzy I experienced that summer, fish were caught and released so quickly that I look at a couple of the pictures taken and I don't even remember the experience. Like a production line, individual ones really didn't mean anything, even the big ones. When you forget anything about catching a 5 lb. smallmouth, something has gone very wrong.

As if Irony was a living, breathing entity, I was driving home from one of those frantic trips and something hit the windshield, hard. I thought it was a rock thrown from the treads of a truck ahead of me, the sound so loud I ducked instinctively. But when I got home and unloaded the truck, I noticed the remains of a cicada, smashed around the windshield wiper on the passenger side. A week later a small crack was visible.

When the crack widened and I brought it in to be replaced, the guy at the glass place asked how it happened. I told him about the cicada, and he said, "Yeah. Happens all the time."

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