In The Second Second Of Forever

 

All hail Bob Calvert, Space Rock Supremo:

In the sixth second of forever

I saw your mouth whispering something I could not hear

In the fifth second of forever

I thought of the vermilion deserts of Mars

The jewelled forests of Venus

In the fourth second of forever

I could remember nothing that I did not love

In the third second of forever

I thought of rain against a window, I thought of the wind

In the second second of forever

I thought of the pair of broken shades lying on the tarmac

In the first and final second of forever

I thought of the long past that had led to now

And never... never... never... never

Space Rock Forever,

LSP 

Monday Shoot

One of the good things about the Feast of the Annunciation is you get to go out and shoot, which is exactly what we did. The orange adversary fell under a flak-tower hail of shot. 

I tell you, it was like screaming Messerschmitts going down over the Channel. But here's a thought.

If you want to hit the clay or for that matter the bird, you mostly have to aim. That's right, put the bead on the target as opposed to firing off in the general direction like some crazed Hitler Youth. It makes a difference.

You see, people come to shotgunnery with all kinds of myths and psychic seconds of forever. They think, understandably perhaps, that they have to over lead the fast moving orange or feathered target. This means they don't aim at it, take too long over the thing, and miss the shot.

No. Those lead BBs are flying out of the barrel at 1,200+ fps, they're fast, really fast. So put the bead on, aim, and shoot. Don't hold back, don't hesitate, engage the target and boom, smoke the clay, drop the bird.

After a while it becomes muscle memory and you can get into the nuance and lead of the thing, not that I'm an expert, but first things first, don't overthink the shot or you'll miss.

There's a moral here if you care to draw it.

Texas Rules,

LSP

In The 2nd Second Second Of Forever

I saw a pair of plastic fangs, lying on the tarmac.

That is all,

LSP

Mix it up, Fool!

Everyone's bored of "the usual spot" and stories of Bluegill rising from the depths and into the fry pan, and I don't blame you. It's been samey. So, with an eye on adventure, I went to the other side of lake Whitney dam, to the spillway, to see what was up.

I'll tell you what was up, SeaWorld. A brief recce from the top of the riprap told me there were plenty of fish in the channel, and in the pool beneath the fishing pier. Big Gar, up to 4' long, maybe larger, sizable catfish, suspended in wait of prey, schools of young Sand Bass darting about and who knows what else. Just all kinds of fish, visible through the technology of a pair of polarized Ugly Stick sunglasses. Cheap, maybe $10 at Walmart.

Excited at the prospect of catching a monster, I cast off with a light rod, 12lb test, a treble hook and a worm, weightless (WWR). Natural presentation and no resistance rules, says fishing wisdom. Well, let's see about that, I thought, cynically.

Kaboom! No sooner had the worm begun to sink than something hit it like a Rhodesian Light Infantry flying column. Thrash! Drag out! Rod bent double, and remember, it's a light rod. Then up came a Gar; they're gentle giants, for all their ferocious prehistoric teeth, and this was a young one. Back you go, my friend.

Just for kicks, I moved down the pier and cast off by the wall of the dam. There were big Catfish lurking in the depths, you could see them, and who knows, maybe they'd be interested in the weightless worm rig.

After a few minutes waiting, what cost patience?, something most certainly was. The fish tore out into mid-pool and dived ferociously for the bank, then back again. A fighter. This went on for maybe 5 minutes, which seemed like the 10 seconds of forever, until the fish was finished. I reeled him in. A Catfish, not a monster, but not far off, either. 

An hour or two later, Striper, Black Drum, and more Catfish than I could be bothered to count struck the WWR and came in. Pretty much every cast a fish, and good ones, too. If I'd had a cooler, well, there'd be a big fish fry tonight.

As it is, a couple of fat Bluegill are about to hit the pan.

Fish On,

LSP