It has been cold lately and I was housebound. Cold weather causes my knees and back to ache. Another winter is knocking loudly at my door and demanding to be let in. The forecast for Monday was 50 degrees with a 15 mph wind from the southwest. Sounded like a trip to one of my favorite places on earth was in order.

I rolled in there at noon. As I exited my vehicle the south wind said hello to me. It felt so warm compared to the bone chilling winds as of late. I smiled and my thoughts went back in time. Many a day in my youth I spent exactly in this place. I took my fishing gear down to the bench and sat there for a good long while.

The waves were caressing the shore and the warm south wind was telling me to sit and enjoy my surrounding before I began fishing. I looked around and my thoughts went here there and every where. I have logged many hours here throughout my life. I had never seen it as I did this day.

My bench where I always sat was worn and some of the boards were loose and nails were sticking out. I have an exact place I sit every time on the bench. I open my tackle box and do a quick inventory of my lures. I typically line up the first five lures I want to use.

I stare out at the water and I am a little boy of ten years old again. The blind potential of what lies beneath those waves keeps me coming back again and again. I relive many battles with pike from forty years ago and last week.

I casted for two hours. During that time I sat about every fifth cast and took in what was around me. It also gave me time to rest my back and knees. My fishing was not fruitful today. I did get to sit in my spot and feel a warm south wind in my face on a late November day in Wisconsin.

My mind wandered as I sat there. I looked at my bench and was sad that it was in disrepair. I equated the bench to my own medical problems. Time can age you and the bench. A cloud went overhead and I could feel a five degree temperature drop while the sun was behind the cloud.

The waves slapped the shore and demanded my attention. The cement and rebar structure that I have fished off of for over half a century looked different. The corner of the wall was showing wear and the rebar was exposed. There were still icicles from the overnight cold temperatures piercing the wall's exterior.

I loaded up my gear and took it up to the vehicle. I was sad and happy. I was about to leave when the sun came out from behind the clouds. The south wind told me to sit on my bench again for a while. I sat there for quite a long time. I was conflicted.

I decided that I should write something about my day when I got home. I may be 60 years old now and time has not been kind to my body. My spot on the wall on the Kickapoo River below dam also shows wear and is not the same. One thing that will forever stay the same is the feeling I have upon my first cast. I am ten years old again.