She rode Don and bore the lunch basket and the net before her on the saddle.

I walked alongside, carrying the rod, boots, and the fish in the otherwise empty bait pail.

The sunshine, streaming through the leaves of the arching boughs overhead, dappled the narrow, overgrown paths with shifting blotches of light and shadow.

Around us was the deep, living green of the woods, the songs of birds, the chatter of red squirrels, and the scent of wild honeysuckle.

And as we moved onward we talked--that is, she did most of the talking and I listened.