Monday, November 18, 2019

Tight Lines



Inspired by tales of trout in the mountain streams of the White Wolf Mine, I drove to the lake in search of fish. Would there be any and if there were, would they bite? Two weighty mysteries to conjure with on the way to a date with piscine destiny.

And at first it seemed as though the answer was negative on both counts. No fish. No bites. Yes, it was all very beautiful, blue sky, autumnal Texan sun reflecting off the water, and all of that, so good for the soul, but where were the fish?




Then, just as I was about to head somewhere else there was a vicious tug on the line, hookset, and whatever was on took off like Trump Train 2020. Rod double, line out, reeling action, especially when the cunning leviathan made a mad bid to dive under the pier. It failed, but only just, and there he was, at last, a mighty catfish.




I hauled the monster up on the dock for a photo op before putting him back in to fight again another day. What a good fish. And there you have it, a short story of aquatic adventure in the Texan countryside and yet another testimony to the power of worms, small hooks and a light rod. Amazed the thing didn't break, to be honest.




Great fun, and a welcome break from staring in slack-jawed consternation at the corruption and malfeasance of our nation's political elite and their lying shills in the media. But that's a different sermon.

Fish on,

LSP


9 comments:

  1. Thanks, Eed, it was a good day.

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  2. The early fish got the worm. A proverb for our times.

    I know that the conference had its own highlights, but how can it possibly compare to a day of fishing?

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    1. I wasn't expecting to catch anything, LL, because I hadn't fished in months and didn't know what the fish were up to. But hey, landed a proper fighter.

      Was it more fun than the convention? Hmmmm.

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  3. A small victory on the dock. Now only God knows what kind of glory could have been had out in the middle of the lake, where the deep, cold water nourishes all manner of leviathan fish, but of course that would take a boat...


    ...and don't get me started on the pure evil that are boats.

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    1. Fredd, as I cast off from the dock, I saw monsters surging up for shad. Probably striper.

      Yes, I wanted a BOAT.Then again, I didn't want the cost of a boat.

      Maybe some kind of canoe would help?

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  4. A bad day of fishing is better than .........?

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    1. WSF, I wasn't complaining! First time I've been out with a rod since the leg incident. Good to get back.

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