To fish is to get A nature fix, With something Good to eat. Alone or with Friends a Wonderous, Relaxing time. Restoration from The energy of Nature. Fish, fish, fish. Connecting with The natural world Is restorative. There are so Many species. Only local fishing Rules dictate Which fish you Can catch and Enjoy grilled Or in the cast Iron fry pan. I started with a Bamboo pole With line, a hook And a weight. Now as a senior I have my first Real fishing rod. Learning to cast As a sole, single Female it requires Having friends Who can coach Me through it. What fun all the Lures and Accessories. My kayak came With a rod holder So I am excited To try it out. Luckily I have A friend who has Volunteered to Clean any fish I catch making A fresh fish meal A possibility. Growing up the Fishing was in The Thames River, Rondeau Bay, Lake Erie and Sometimes in Mitchel’s Bay. To fish is to get A nature fix, With something Good to eat. Alone or with Friends a Wonderous, Relaxing time. Restoration from The energy of Nature. Fish, fish, fish. My father took us Out and we tried To stock up the Freezer for Winter. Fishing from the Shore or in the Plywood boat he Made was special Time with my Father that I Treasured. The truth be told He caught most Of the fish. My friend uses Feathers from my Chickens to make His own fly-fishing Lures. However, I know nothing About fly fishing. He says the trick Is patience, A gentle cast, And learning how The insects move Above the water. Perhaps one day He will teach me How to make A feather dance. A fly line floats Back and forth Above the stream, Unrolling through The morning air. The little fly Touches down As softly as A falling leaf. For a moment The whole world Is quiet. Then the water Suddenly moves, And the adventure Begins. Somewhere in the Northern lakes Lives the elusive Aurora trout. Its beautiful Colours shimmer Like sunrise Across the water. Finding one would Be a treasure, But protecting it Is important too. I would follow Every rule, Admire the moment, Take a photograph, And let it swim Away if required. Every lake has Its own story, Every river has A different song. Some days the fish Are biting, Some days they Are not. Still, the wind, The birds and The moving water Make the journey Worthwhile. A quiet day With an empty Fishing net Is never truly An empty day. Cast the line, Watch it fly, See the clouds Go drifting by. Feel the sunlight, Hear the shore, Every trip leaves Me wanting more. Respect the water, Respect the land, Leave each place As nature planned. There are still So many things For me to learn: How to choose The proper lure, How to read The wind and waves, And where the fish May hide. But learning is Part of the fun, Especially with Friends beside me And another story Waiting on the Water. To fish is to get A nature fix, With something Good to eat. Alone or with Friends, a Wondrous, Relaxing time. Restoration from The energy of Nature. Cast, wait, hope, And dream. Fish, fish, fish. The water calls. The line goes out. Another fishing Story begins. Fish, fish, fish.
