My First Time Fishing
They say it’s never too late to learn, so at the ripe age of
70 I cast my first line into the water. It was an auspicious day, the breeze
tossing my hair gently, the clouds protecting me from a burning sun, and the
water gently lapping under the dock were I was stationed. How to hold the pole,
cast the reel, bait the hook was painstakingly explained by my patient son.
Other old timers on the dock were watching in amusement as this neophyte gingerly
lowered her bait into the water. I learned so much that day as I threw and
reeled, dreamed of fish meals--. Here is what I learned. Fishing should be
called casting. Fishing is a lesson in
patience. Fishing is competitive as we all eyed each other any time there was
pull on our line. Most people don’t catch anything and when they do catch it
has to be thrown back; it’s too small or it’s’ not a fish but debris, or a
shark, or someone else’s pole. I learned
why whenever I see a picture of a man or woman hosting a smile as big as the wide blue sea, with a big fish on a
hook, why they were smiling. What a day. No fish, but plenty of learning and
darned if I don’t want to go back and do it again.
