Fishing


Make text smaller Make text larger



Photos



  • fisherman seen from a worms view



I don’t catch many fish

I’m not a natural

The arc of the weighted line and fly

As it sails through the air

Is like a poem

Find the rhythm

And the fly lands by the rock

And floats lifelike along the riffle

And over the basking trout.

But often the cast is out of step

With the air and the arm is

Out of step with the rod

And the fly drops like the fake it is

On top of where

The fish waits, pushing

Against the current,

Disdaining crude artifice.

I step gingerly upstream

Stay in the shallows

I’ve been too deep before, waist high

And the power of the water

Was suddenly terrifying

River knee high, stones visible

Beneath the surface

Water rushing sound round

Waders boots, cool through fabric

Retying line and leader

Eying the late day sun

Aiming for a long bank cast

Don’t spook the fish

A new fly

Elk Wing Caddis.

One cast, get it right

Keep it simple.

We live in different worlds

I’m invading his

Literally out of my depth

If I venture too far.

I cast -- eight o’clock, two o’clock

The flick of the wrist

The slow roll of the line

Behind and upward

And the snap the snap

As the line shoots forward

The caddis lands soft and gentle

As if alive and borne on the wind

And SNAP!, the trout bites and lifts

Breaches and falls

And then runs the line out

We are connected now

Our two worlds

An alien encounter

I reel and pull

He runs and tires

A contest with no time

Just a flow of moments

Until caught.

I hold him in the cold current

Sun-sparkled scales flash

In the shallow water

A healthy Rainbow

Unscathed. Maybe.

I thank him. And then,

Untethered,

We release each other, and he flashes away

Upstream, strong against the flow.

I thank the water and the trees

And the river.

I fish another hour

Cast, drift, reel, think.

Meditation.

I catch nothing.

But that’s okay.

By Neil Bostock




Make text smaller Make text larger

Comments

Pool Rules



comments powered by Disqus

MUST READ NEWS

Joining the cavemen
The making of a barefoot runner

By Orion Russell Blake

February 3, 2010. That’s when it started. I was catching my regularly scheduled infotainment and...

Read more »
Image

In the path of the jaguar
A rare case of hope for an apex predator

By Jenna Gersie

Connor and I walk with a guide and other tourists down a canopied rainforest path, beside a slow river,...

Read more »
Image

Seed Catalogue to Farmstand
This one stores well

You could be eating cucumbers on Christmas

Germination is slow and sparse



This tastes more like a cucumber than a...

Read more »
Image

VIDEOS



* indicates required


MOST READ

Griterati
Joining the cavemen
  • Mar 13, 2019
Yonder
In the path of the jaguar
  • Mar 6, 2019
Poetry
Seed Catalogue to Farmstand
  • Mar 6, 2019
Features
Cora’s belly birth
  • Mar 4, 2019
Features
Locally grown meets high tech
  • Jan 3, 2019
Hands
Mission: the simple life
  • Jan 3, 2019
How Do You Saturday?
Simmer down
  • Mar 1, 2019
Day Tripper
The hiker’s secret to longevity
  • Jan 8, 2019
Born Again
Hurricane dogs
  • Mar 1, 2019
West Milford, NJ