When my husband asked me to
go fishing with him today, I said yes. The weather forecast predicted a high of
50 degrees and mostly sunny skies. After packing a picnic lunch of mini-subs
(ham, turkey, Colby jack cheese and hard salami piled on hot dog buns slathered
with Miracle Whip) and potato chips, we were off in our old red fishing Jeep.
I actually didn’t fish. I
wandered down the walkway to the fishing dock and onto the point. On my way
back, I went down to the beach and walked along the water’s edge. Mine were the
only human footprints in the sand. Looking closely, I saw tiny little
branch-like lines where sea gulls hopped. They also left behind a sprinkling of
white feathers. I noticed the larger track of a goose and the hand/paw print of
a coon. I followed a deer trail, wondering why it followed that particular
route on the beach.
The water reflected the blue
and white sky in places, but around the edge of the lake it mirrored the brown
grass and bare trees. Does water have color?
A gaggle of Canadian geese glide
atop the cool water. Do their feet get cold?
For those of you who are wondering about the fish, after a slow start, they did start biting. Blaine caught enough fish to keep our traditional "Fresh Fish for Sunday Supper" streak going. Life is good.
