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On the banks of the Cowlitz River, near the mouth of the Blue Creek stands a small snag with a cozy little cavity.

As I stand a few feet into the river I can hear the call of the Chickadee whenever he flies in to the tall branches just above the snag. He is either crowing about his hunting success or he is just giving us fair warning that he’s coming in for a landing — I don’t know which.

One second he’s there, perched at the edge with a bug of some sort hanging out of his mouth …

… and in the next second he’s gone.

Can you see him? That’s his tail feathers sticking up in the air.

Maybe he’s got a bully for a big brother that keeps stealing his lunch so he has to hide to eat his catch.

He didn’t seem to worried about me bullying him, what a handsome bird!

And yes, this was the day that I fell into the river (I talked about it briefly in my column this week). My son is on the left of the line of fisherman, I was standing to the left of him.

It wasn’t deep and I didn’t go under, but that Cowlitz River flows from the snow melting off of Mt. Rainier, so it ain’t cozy warm!

Still, it was a good day of fishing and friendly conversation with a couple of easy going combat steelhead fisherman.

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