The run

This book mirrors an attempt to go farther afield, from one man’s center. Its writing represented a kind of migration in itself. We all undertake them, whether we like it or not...

This season the rights to fish the stream had been bought from the town by a firm that wanted them for lobster bait. On the eighteenth day of the month a big red truck had pulle...

A wooden bridge crosses over Stony Brook at this point. A neighbor of mine, a mother of children, was standing there watching when I came up, and I heard her say, “Terrible!” I...

What might seem to be a curious exception to the rule is a run in St. John Harbor, New Brunswick, that occurs in the dead of winter. Alewives are taken there in late January and...

The violent, reckless activity of the gulls went on all morning. In the way they have of riding each other: “You’ve got it. Show you can keep it!” they were picking up fish, dro...

I have idly wondered whether a single fish, isolated from its brethren, might not suffer some kind of unknown hell of estrangement. I have seen one swimming wildly down a narrow...

During the third week in May, when the run seemed about over I had still not seen them spawning, although I had heard a description of it from my local authority, Mr. Alexander.

There is an account, in a _Report of the Alewife Fisheries of Massachusetts_, 1921, of some alewives hatched out in the fisheries at Sandwich, Massachusetts, in June of 1919. Th...

The alewife migration taught me how to start. Had we been two and a half miles up from salt water to the farthest pond, then back again, or was it three thousand? I had learned...