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Fishing
June 16, 2008
A couple of days ago I decided to get away from the turbid hustle and bustle of blue collar life. The depth of my wallet could not sustain a prolonged journey to some far off place where dryads and fawns frolicked with pixies and brownies fluttering about in a wanton dance just to amuse me. No, fairyland would have to wait, so I chose the next best thing, I packed my fishing pole and tackle box then headed to the nearest pond. It was just about noon when I reached the spot, I should have been here earlier but since I had the day off I decided that I wanted to drink all of the liquid sleep I could manage. I felt refreshed and dare I say jovial. As if reflecting my mood the sun was washing the scenery with a beautiful radiance and the wind blew eddies keeping the incessant insects at bay. A foreign smile crept to my face, I had today and tomorrow off of work and nature reacted to my joy with a beauty only she could give.

Upon the purchase of my fishing license I gave up the surety of live bait and took a vow to quest for the best lure. Today I felt like a jig, it had a white bottom and a dark top with a twisty tail jiggling at its extremity. I put a small resplendent white jig head with charcoal dots for eyes through the rubber body making sure that the pale side was down and the hook was through the bleak anterior. Earlier that day I had purchased a braided 15 pound test line, which had the width of less than a 4 pound nylon line. The slim line diameter allowed for a smooth long cast even with the minuscule weight of the jig and the hefty test ensured the integrity of my line from the urgent pull driven from the largest of fish.

I was set and ready to go. This was the fifth time I had been to these ponds, there were two different ponds. Prior to this moment; I had fished at the larger of the two ponds but I always kept a keen eye on this spot in particular: it was nestled in an alcove with a perfect structure to give even the most fastidious fish a good place for cover. I found a spot low enough so that I could touch the turgid face of the water. The three foot high embankment to my left was only a few feet away, to my immediate right there were trees leaning over the surface of the pool and just beyond that the wind caused the facade to ripple. This spot was cut off from the bluster to the affect of stillness.

It was here that I decided to test my mettle, so I put my pole together pulled back the bale and let fly.

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