Gone Fishin'

This was another commission piece (acrylic) that I worked on for a friend several years ago.  Note the fisherman in the background, casting the line.  My dad is a great fisherman, and oddly enough, he said it was his mother that really taught him (though Granddad was a good fisherman also).  So then there's me--not a fisherman at all.  I do love being out there in the stream, taking it all in.  I even enjoy trying, but somehow I just never got the "fishin' fever."  Most of my experiences of fishing trips ended up (or began with) me falling in the water and scaring the fish away.  But I have to say that the best times that I've spent fishing were with Dad. When he lived in North Carolina, sometimes we would go to a pier at night and fish for awhile, and we would talk about different things in life, and I loved simply being with him, whether I caught any fish or not (I did catch a blowfish one time).  We would also take the boat out from time to time, and again, just sit and catch up.  Sometimes we would catch something, sometimes we wouldn't.  Either way I could sit and listen to Dad for hours. 

I still enjoyed going to the streams while Dad and my brother fished.  It's been awhile, but I have to say it's a special experience to stand out in the middle of the stream and be still while the water glides past you, carrying leaves and other odd bits, revealing here and there little dapples of light, wavering ghostly reflections that dance on the surface as the breeze quietly whispers through the trees overhead. A certain graceful peace settles in your mind in those moments, then you realize there are fish laughing at you under the water, wondering which stone you'll slip on as you make your way back to the bank...I guess my children will have to learn to fish from their Granddaddy, and that's okay with me.