I have been asked, what is it about fishing? Many find it dull, boring, and frustrating. I find a mystery in the fishing and rarely do I get lost in the lack of catching. Who can say exactly what it is, maybe it is the slight breeze brushing your face, fingers and toes numb from the cold, sun glistening shimmers of golds and yellows off rolling waves - that is magic. Then there is the silence of just the water, the pressure from the current and knowing a fall could be disastrous. Don’t get me wrong there is no evil on the water. It is where God can tell you he is good and you believe him because the beauty shouts it out. It is a time and place where time can stand still and God might say, look around do you see me?” Of course there is the challenge of figuring it out. The beauty of the fly dancing out to that perfect spot, the strike when you thought you missed it, the thrill of measuring out the line while keeping a smooth and silky tension allowing no slack to disrupt the music you and the fish are making. Then comes that flash of silver and you see him bull back down deep for his final run. A laugh of delight rings out over the water. Your friend might give you the thumbs up shouting back encouragement. A hundred casts, five hundred cast, a thousand casts? Who is to say what number fills a day on the water?
The sun finally drops down behind the horizon and a day on the water comes to an end. Weariness is on your face as you step out of your waders and even then with painful muscles aching, you know it was good. A mental tension that was there is now gone, and a good tired has now permeated you.It could now be a drive home or maybe sitting around a fire with a blistering hot cup of coffee with that friend who makes no demands. Sure he will jab and mock that you only have fish stories and you will prod back but the smile and the bantering seals a bond and a memory of another day on the water.
By the way Homer rarely gets invited fishing.
13 comments:
Now that was darn near romantic. Beautifully described. It brought up visions of my favorite movie, "A River Runs Through It". You don't have to catch a thing to make "fly" fishing fun. Now cane pole and bobber fishing is just a title to give to "doing nothing", which isn't bad either.
Arkansas Patti: Doing nothing is a pretty darn good thing to be doing when fishing. The cane pole and bobber comes with a hazy memory of a 5 year old Grayquill pole in hand.
now that's quite a different post...the kind that makes me think u actually r the person in the snap...lol :D:D:D
How beautiful! My Husband LOVES to fish! I don't give him a hard time anymore, I've come to understand that it is his time to unwind and relax! Whether or not he comes home with a fish doesn't even matter! His favorite saying when I ask if I should get something out for dinner is, "Said I was goin' fishin', not catchin'!"
~Michele
WOW I say! 'Goin fishin' is a term which I've read about only in books and blogs, and you really brought it alive here. I simply loved the way you expressed that intensity of beauty in nature, and how God lives through them, but we fail to see.
I loved, absolutely loved these lines...
"sun glistening shimmers of golds and yellows off rolling waves"
"the thrill of measuring out the line while keeping a smooth and silky tension "
....wonderful post..more poetry, less prose.!! Simply superb!
There is a strangle calmness in this tale...Almost makes me want to go fishing...
But wait I did..Once..A river runs in front of my grandmum's house. One summer all of us cousins(5 girls between 6 to 10 years old), decided to stick a hand made(by us) fishing pole in it. The bait was probably some food stolen from the kitchen. And voila! We caught a big silver fish!
We went around proudly showing it to the locals. Till we noticed that it was bleeding from the mouth.
We promptly released it back into the water and watched it swim away...
I had completely forgotten about the above incident till I read your post.
PS: Is that you in the picture?
This post reminds me of my days of trout fishing on the White River. Up early, before the sun, out on the river, steam rising from the water. Chill in the air. Aaaaahhhhh. Those were the days.
Hi.. this is a first-time visit (from choco's pages).. I don't know what is it about your blog, but I love your style of writing !!! :)
I hope we can be blog-pals.. !
Cheers
Blunt edges: That unusual for me huh? Am I the person in the pic? I guess that depends on which picture is being referred to.
Michele: I think I could your husband I could be great friends, a man with his priorities in order.
Anita: Thank you! Your comment has made my day! Thanks.
Choco: I knew it – you’re releasing that fish was perfect training for catch and release fly fishing. I think you should head right out and pickup that fly pole you have been dreaming about.
Betty: Yes – the steam rising off the water in the early morning light is possibly God’s breath. There is no other time when the air is so fresh.
Lostworld: You’re new – Yahoo!! Welcome. After your nice words how could we not become pals?
Thanks for visiting. I hope you come back.
I don't think I can ever go fishing (don't mind catching one though). I don't like the looks of it :)
Hmmm...do you eat fish? Do you think a fish is ugly - some are for sure.
There's a ton of good reasons to spend a day on the water and you nailed several of the best. Nicely done.
Frank Baron: Thank you! Your comment is appreciated.
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