The New York Times on Sunday published a beautifully photographed tale about fly fishing for trout in Patagonia.
Spun in the timeless "me and Joe go fishing'' reportage genre, albeit more polished than some yarns in this category, writer Jon Gluck's have-fly-rod-will-travel adventure recalled Izaak Walton's keen reminder centuries ago that, "God never did make a more calm, quiet innocent recreation than angling.''
Or maybe not.
To read some of the 50-plus reader comments appended to the online version of the narrative, one would have thought Gluck and his wader-clad pals had arrived in Chile brandishing Kalashnikovs, not carefully cased 9-foot, 5-weight graphite wands.
"Can we not leave a few places on this planet where wild animals ... can grow to their historic sizes without being lusted after by some human?'' lamented Trish Marie from Michigan. Karen B. of California chipped in, "Now more rich humans will go disturb nature instead of just appreciating it.''
All of which is another reminder that, of this nation's various ills, the belief, seemingly ever growing, particularly on the East and West coasts, that people and nature are somehow separate, is among the scariest.
George Monbiot in his book, "Feral,'' described this phenomenon as "dewilding.''
"I am not quite sure how this happened,'' Monbiot wrote, "(but) I had found myself living a life in which loading a dishwasher presented an interesting challenge.''