FISHERMEN: #40 A NATURE SCENE

Tags

angling, balsam scent, Do'n What Comes Naturally, fishing, Mountain scene

 

I was fishing in the creek,

enjoying nature at its best,

the trout is what I went to seek,

but the picture tells the rest.

I smelled the balsam trees,

saw a mother with her fawn,

watched pollen stolen by bees,

and more at the crack of dawn.

Splashing beyond a large rock,

caught my attention at mid-day,

on this scene my mind did lock,

wood-scene thoughts soon fell away.

© Copy written for what I will never know.

FISHERMEN: #39 OPINIONS

Tags

angling, balsam, balsam scent, dock, eagle, fir trees, fishing, fly fishing, friendship, lake fishing, libations, Mountain scene

 

Whew – – – that was rather taxing.

This is the tenth and very last picture of fishing lakes and streams with that big dome in the background.

I was running out of words.

See that young fellow wading around out there? Pretty clever guy.

His friend wanted to build a dock – – – and he did so.

But not that dock.

The other dock is long gone. You see – – – his friend built it on stakes pounded into the lake bed. And then he built his dock on that. The following spring the snow and ice caps melted off of big dome and the lake rose two feet. It tore his dock right off the stakes and completely ruined it.

So this fellow, the one in the red checkered shirt that is attempting to fool the fish, he told the other fellow with the ruined dock “I have an idea.”

And the ruined dock fellow says “Do tell.”

Then checkered shirt guy says “We can build a dock that is attached at the shore line with hinges. The outer end will float on barrels. We can put stakes inside the dock to keep it from twisting but we won’t attach them to the dock. Then when the lake rises the outer end will rise and fall with the lake level.”

And they did so together. Became good friends in the process. Had a beer together when they finished.

I am not sure if the beer was meant to bond the friendship or just to quench the thirst. It really doesn’t matter. Probably did both.

And even I got something out of the process. That dock made me change my dealings with other people.

“Do tell” you ask.

Well – – – I was like that stiff dock. When the tempers rose, like the lake, I would remain adamant and would not budge. It didn’t work out most of the time. Now I stay grounded in my base opinions but allow others to raise or lower my outlook.

I used to get destroyed in most opinionated discussions. But now people realize I am listening and am willing to change.

Guess what! They also change their opinions once they realize we are having a discussion and not an argument.

Go figure.

© Copy written for what I will never know.

FISHERMEN: #38 A LAKE

Tags

angling, balsam, balsam scent, eagle, fir trees, fishing, fly fishing, lake fishing, Mountain scene

 

I don’t feel much like writing anything this morning.

So guess what I am not going to do?

I am not going to point out that bridge across the lake.

And I am not going to call your attention to the other half of this lake on the other side of that bridge.

I am not going to wonder how long it took nature to eat away at that dome of a mountain and place all the fertile earth half way down where all those trees are growing and whose branches are full of birds and squirrels and fishers and owls and aromatic scents.

No – – – I am not going to point out, tell, describe or prattle on about this lake – – – or the dome shaped mountain in the center or its little sister to the left.

Neither am I going to say anything about this fisherman not having to worry about his boots filling up with cold water because the lake is so shallow he doesn’t have to concern himself about it.

Nor am I going to wonder what type of self-respecting fish would live in such a lake.

Is there no privacy for these fish in such a clear lake?

Are there such things as voyeur fish who seek other fish out for their own prurient interests?

And where are the ubiquitous water plants such as weeds, reeds and lily pads. What type of lake has no weeds for the insects to feed on and hide in – – – for the fish to eat – – – for the man to catch?

This is a strange lake indeed.

Yet it has a stark beauty of its own – – – much like people I don’t quite understand.

THERE! I didn’t say a word and I am quite pleased with my ability to shut up for a day or so.

© Copy written for what I will never know.