Brown Caddis.
Black Wooly Bugger.
Copper John.
Blue Wing Olive.
and
Dark Jujubee
and
Dark Jujubee
He would stand in the cold water from 6:00am until 9:30pm if you'd let him. All day. Every day. He is a fisherman. It is now in his blood. It is part of who he is. There is no turning back. Hook. Line. And sinker.
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| my fisherman |
Yesterday was fishing day (again). Yes, I know it's February and February is cold, but when you have a fisherman in your home, all those rules go out the window. If it's 40 degrees or above, it's fishin' weather. So off we headed after an early morning basketball game to the river. It was beautiful actually. No wind, but warm sunshine all day, so the 44 degree temperature felt more like 55 degrees (well, kind of).
I followed him around the outskirts of the river videotaping his every move and knot tying minute for a school project (that's why we had to go you see). It was so nice to just be. And, to be with his smile and hope for "the big one" made the entire day wonderful.
The fisherman beside us caught a 19 inch trout and instantly the energy increased. The "they are really in here and I'm going to catch one" excitement increased once again. He quickly took the fisherman's spot as he left and headed down the river to a new possibility under some sagging branches.
He casted and casted and waited and waited. Fishing is a patient man's sport. Very patient. He was persistent, but at the end of the day, with only one quick hook and the fish coming off, we were still fishless. But, in our house, the saying goes.
"A bad day of fishing, is still a good day of fishing."
So happy I got to spend this time with him. Beautiful company, great conversation and a great day of fishing.
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| heart shaped river rocks from our day of fishing.....second time i've found them while fishing with my big guy. |
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