Gone Fishing

I went fishing this morning. Aidan has been after me to take him fishing so I borrowed some of my father's tackle so we can go fishing next week.

As has been the case of late, I was up at 5:30 wondering what to do with myself. The kids were at their moms', Joey was sound asleep, and the idea of turning on the TV had no appeal. Sitting in the corner of my living room, however, were a few fishing poles and a tackle box.

I used to go fishing often...usually in salt water...always to catch fish to eat. This morning, however, I simply walked down the street to the local pond and cast my line for trout. As we have turned our rivers and ponds into dumping sites I do not have the courage to eat locally caught fresh water fish. However, whereas previous expeditions were about catching fish, this mornings' was about going fishing. It was about standing on a bridge, casting my line, and not caring whether I caught anything or not.

I spent two hours this morning on that bridge, immersed in the sounds of running water, birds singing, and leaves gently rustling in the cool breeze. Admittedly, I would still be there had not falling rain broken the spell and brought me back into the present and to myself. And now I feel more like myself than I have for several months.

I need to fish more often.

(by the way...I caught five trout...all of whom were returned to their watery home none the worse for wear)