It ain't no church, these mudflats. I don't shave and press my pants, and hope to hear the word of god or anybody else. And there ain't no fish or lords gettin' petitioned with prayer...or cussin' either, for that matter. These big common carp are wild and wiley and are at least a hundred and one generations of don't give a damn. If you come to the flats unprepared, or with anything but your A-Game...you will not be forgiven. Walk too fast or wade too loudly...or cast to short. Or too close. Or too hard. Or too far. Or too late. Or too soon....and it is over. No crackers, no wine, no choir...just the fat lady barfing and groaning in the cattails. Nope, not even she will sing for ya. You suck. You failed. Nothin' left for you to do but reel in and hunt for another.
I like to spend my Sunday mornings like that.