Kevin Tate

The Old Man held a hook in two fingers of his left hand, having lifted it from a bulk box labeled “Mustad, 3/0.” His opposite hand pinched the bottom of a loop of waxed nylon line into a point and threaded it through the hook's eye, looping it over the point and bend, then pulling it tight. He did the same for a hundred or so more, securing each neatly into the rim of a foam cooler, piling the line carefully in the bottom where it would not tangle or snag.

One of the most expensive parts of your fishing tackle doesn’t always have to be, though sometimes it should be, depending on the intended application and who’ll be using it.

PICKWICK STATE PARK — Smallmouth bass occupy much the same habitat as largemouth and spotted bass, but relate much more strongly to temperature and current. Finding them, then provoking them

Mississippi will limit non-residents to two turkeys rather than three per season, and to only one turkey before April 1 beginning in the 2027 season, wildlife officials recently ruled.

T he Old Man trudged through the shallow pond, carefully keeping the wooden handle at his end of the net upright and the lines between us fairly

Classic rifle designs don’t change much, but the glass directing their output has been improved tremendously in recent decades, a point highlighted by Leupold. Elements for situational adjustability are one

We sat on the porch and looked at the flower pot we had moved. In it bloomed small, yellow flowers. Droplets of water hung from the wispy leaves of green that sprouted along their stems. The weather was pleasant, and a light breeze moved lazily from the south. Nothing else, really, was going on. It was the kind of day that disappears among all the other blank calendar squares behind us. It was the kind of day the Old Man would have said should be noticed on purpose.

In the same way a driver on the road should be prepared for fellow motorists to do the dumbest things they can think of, boat operators should expect

If an area of your yard that had previously been smooth suddenly appears to have been plundered by treasure seekers hunting one small shovel-full at a time, chances are the culprit was a nine-banded armadillo.

We put in from a muddy side road with easy access to the water, then ran down the Tombigbee at a comfortable pace. River levels were up from a recent rain but not dangerously so. As captain, the Boy was rightfully cautious. He drove with deliberate care. I sat in the front seat the Old Man so long occupied while the Boy followed any line he chose, one hand on the tiller, the other resting on a knee. Here and there, trees leaned in from eroding banks, their leaves tickling surface tension on the move. I watched the birds and listened to the echoes of the engine, listened to the echoes of the years.