Retrieving my line as dusk fell heavy on the water; I hooked the diminutive size #18 bead-head on the keeper and drew the rod snug. My eyes rose above the high water mark on the far bank, greeting me with a dark grey overcast sky and the darting of bats in the heavy summer air. As my mind slowly caught up to my eyes and the rest of the world I was struck by the realization. My mind had not registered a conscious thought of anything save for the feeding trout in the pool before me for nearly three hours. Not in a compulsive nature however, where the act of fishing consumes a person with a drive to beat the fish.
Awesome article Ralph. Time doesn’t seem to exist when the stream flows by my feet. The “solace” is also what Healing Waters is about
Ralph, I always look forward to reading your articles. A favorite poet with an Eastern fishing beginning, Greg Kuzma, writes about life “in the other world”. We need that water-fish-solace experience some days to function in this world. Best wishes to you, Ralph & family, in the New Year! Tight lines, Rever
Great article, the glass is indeed half full.
Thank you Ralph for sharing. I had noticed that my pains both psychological and physical dissapeared on the water only to return as I left. It makes no sense, my artritis should be worse standing for hours in cold water, but it never bothers me until I head back to the truck.