A fishing story for all of you dreaming of going fishing during the Covid-19 quarantine.
The fish blared out its frustration as it breached the top of the water line, hook set through its hungry mouth. It knew it was defeated. About to be reeled out from its comfortable aquatic lair and into the boat. Still, it fought.
I would later have to give it credit for its stoic resistance, though at the time all I wanted to give it was a stiff pull of the carbonite rod. Sweat began to bead at my brow with the effort, still with lingering uncertainty as to whether or not I could reel him close enough to complete the catch.
It was at that specific moment of wavering hope that I realized something. With the low sun glimmering on the water, cool breeze at my back, and the sound of fish tail splashes, I had transitioned from kid with a childhood hobby to fisherman. Much like the fish at the end of my line, I was now being inevitably pulled towards something more powerful than myself. A new lifestyle highlighted by weekend trips to the lake, swapping “real” fish stories with the seasoned fishermen out at the marina like George Poveromo, and spending precious time with my kids teaching them the same satisfaction of fishing that I had come to enjoy.
That realization matriculated through my mind for a flickering second and then was gone, replaced by the yank of the fish bending my pole in a whole new direction. My focus renewed on the task at hand. There was pleasurable work to be done. This was a moment to celebrate, for more reasons than just the new lunker I finally pulled in. A lunker? Really? Well…okay, I’ll tell you the “real” story out at the marina.
Happy Travels (and happy fishing),
Dr. L
Great writing here! Thanks for the good fishing story.
Thanks Brin, glad you enjoyed it!