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At Playa La Madera, the cast-net fisherman scans the surface for signs of ojotones or lisas. They might darken the water like cloud shadow or roil the surface, but the signs are subtler the closer he gets.
He waits for his moment, for his range. In one fluid motion, his body gathers and then uncoils, his seasoned hands releasing the net with just enough spin to unfurl.
His extended tongue speaks to his effort and concentration, yet this time -- many times -- he is unsuccessful.
