A spawning couple circles round and round. He rubs his body over hers and quivers. She chases him away. They watch each other warily but neither leaves the other for long. And I watch, floating in the water for hours. My feet are numb, my face as cold as the lake. The sun has long since traveled beyond the snow-feathered mountains, but I must stay. Her time is near. "Drop the eggs," I urge. "Drop them," I plead. The salmon ignores my call.