Merry Christmas, Norm

This Christmas morn, the mother-in-law is off at a nursing home recuperating, the wife is still fast asleep. The dogs have all been let out and no longer pacing and restless. The house is quiet except for the young cat. A Christmas tree ornament really did need to be knocked off the tree at 6 AM and rolled around the house for the next two hours.

I’m sitting around waiting, to go get my daughters, to go hang out with family for the afternoon. Probably eat too much later. I hope.

In my email is a fishing report from Norm. He’s been playing around with words. He does a decent job of playing.

Reminded me of why I fish, or go fishing.

I think there’s a paragraph in there about a fish being caught.

The caps and collars of ice on the flooded brush gave mute testimony to the river dropping an inch. As I looked around I saw the sunlight reflecting off them in myriad ways when the branches swayed with the wind.

When the sun was higher in the sky, it’s light dappled and danced on the water’s surface as it bounced over a riffle. It’s warmth was a welcome respite to the bite of the winter wind.

While walking through the forest on a path worn by generations of fishermen, I came upon a wonderous sight. There on the forest floor hidden from the sun were small collections of individual snowflakes. Their delicate, translucent white was contrasted by the green moss covered logs and curled, rusty leaves upon which they lay. When I lifted a leaf to marvel at the beauty of the flakes they were exposed to the sun. Thus warmed, they began to disappear into dull blotches of wetness. With regrets for destroying such ephemeral beauty, I laid it back in the shade of a log hoping to preserve some of it.

At the junction of the lower, clearer water of a creek and the higher, muddier water of the river, I worked a Husky Jerk against the current. After a pause during which it fluttered suspended in place, I felt some weight and set the hook. A smallmouth of respectable size though unmeasured was quickly released without being lifted from the water.

While walking back along the creek, I found a log in a sunny spot to sit and relax. The sound of the water moving over the creekbed and the warmth of the sun soon had me mesmerized into a state of mediative peace. That was interrupted by a tapping noise to my right. There, a small woodpecker was investigating the possibility of a meal up in the tree. That was a reminder of my own need for nourishment as well. It was with great reluctance that I re-entered the world of time as measured by man’s reckoning not nature.

Norm

Went through some old photos, Norm, to give people an idea of what inspires you. Granted, it’s while I was out there hunting years ago, but I think it makes the point.

Merry Christmas Norm, and thanks. I needed that this morning.

This Post Has 4 Comments

  1. It’s the quiet times, and what we do with them, that define us. Ken, enjoy your day, so peacefully started, and may all of your holiday be happy.

  2. Have a good Christmas Ken.

  3. The early morning hours before the house is awake is always the best time to reflect and count blessings. I slept until 11 this morning.

  4. Wound up being a very nice, but emotionally draining day. If it’s possible to have both. Hope all of yours went well.

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