My Book Of Life

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My Book Of Life



I have fished this stretch for what seems forever. Two hundred yards downstream I caught my first trout at age five. I am certain that I was given one of my lessons on stream by my father on this stretch. He typically gave a "what is that" speech at least once during an outing. The lessons varied from what kind of tree or wildflower was streamside to being a good steward of the outdoors.


His lessons taught me to love the places trout lived. He held them in high regard, They were almost holy places to him. He was not a religious person. When he spoke on stream it seemed like a sermon almost. My mom required me to go to church often and my Dad's speeches seemed like they came from the pulpit. He always told me to take it all in and always respect the outdoors.


This summer I was wading up this stream. The weeds were too high to walk the bank. I took a good friend with me to my special stretch of water. I wanted to share this place with him that evoked such strong memories of my father. My dad left me over half a century ago but his spirit lives on when I am on stream.


I had a special hole that I wanted to show my friend. I was bursting with anticipation prior to getting there. My mind was replaying ancient memories almost like a slideshow. I remembered the first time there with my dad. I was five years old again. My trip to the past was abruptly terminated. Our trek had a hurdle.

It was a wow moment. There in the tiny head water of my stream of time there was an obstruction. What had caused this to happen? It had endured countless rain events, even huge floods through its lifetime. I was certain my dad and I had walked in these same tracks decades prior.

At first I was sad looking at the giant felled tree. My mind was rushing to and fro from years past. This tree was for sure older than me and it now laid across my stream. I paused and gave it the respect it deserved and pressed on to my final destination. Call it a metaphor or ramblings of an old gray trout slayer but it is a prominent memory in my book of life.

[Rick Z]

Very nice read.

Rick

[oldster]

Thanks for sharing, You made my day,

[Steve Molcsan]

This is as good a place as any to wish a good new year to all.

Len , I hope you will share another story or two this year, always enjoyable to read
and view your photos.

Until then, may you all be safe, well and able,

[Steve Molcsan]

Always a nice one to read againThanks Len

[Ron Eagle Elk]

I got the same sermons from my Dad. Not religious at all, but spiritual just the same. What tree, flower, plant is that, what can you use it for, who made that track, walking or running? Did you check that spider web to see what bugs it held? My Mom sent me to Sunday School every Sunday while she stayed home. My Dad took me to his church every day and was standing there beside me, talking about the wonderment of what the Creator of all things had made. Glad to see I wasn't alone.