You know that moment? Sun beating down. Line limp in the water. You’ve stared at that bobber so long you’re questioning life choices—Did I insult a fish in a past life? Is my bait secretly boring? I was there once, slumped over my tackle box like a man mourning a lost cause, when an old-timer with saltwater in his veins and wisdom in his wrinkles glanced over.
“You try glass rattles?” he asked.
