It's late afternoon on a fine winter day. The sun is out, the sky clear, and I decide to go fishing. Grabbing my rod from my house I head down to the river, wondering on my way what sort of fish I might catch.
I reach the river and walk alongside it a short distance, until finally I spot a large black shadow in the water. With a practiced precision gained from many a fishing trip, I cast my line a little upstream of the shadow, letting the current carry the float gently down with it. The lure floats nearer and nearer the shadow, still perfectly passive, until it's almost on top of it. Suddenly I feel the slight tug of a nibble, and watch intently for the brightly painted bobber to be tugged below the surface of the water.
Two, three, even four times the fish nibbles, then suddenly it strikes. I reel the line in as rapidly as I can, the fish trashing in the water below and my pulse racing with anticipation. With a final tug I have it out of the water, and can now see what I caught. It's a stringfish! Excited by my success, I carefully pack away my catch and head off to Nook's to sell my prize. The mere thought of the high bounty the raccoon would pay for such a rare fish is enough to make me grin, and I decide that my fishing trip has most definitely been a good one.