News-Argus/Kaye Nesbit

The fog crept in on little cat feet, wrote Carl Sandburg, and silently did it lie upon the water when Ralph Holland arrived on the bank of the Neuse River this morning. The sun's rays were just beginning to stream down through the branches, and the night lingered there, loathe to surrender to the din of daytime. That setting lured Holland in for a little early-morning fishing at Price's Landing on Bill Lane Boulevard, and who can blame him?