There have been a few things gnawing on my mind lately. My father used to say a man cannot worry while fishing.
It is true. It is something I have known for almost my entire life. The only thing a person can think about while fishing is fishing. Everything else melts away.
Walked the tracks down to one of my old fishing holes. I took the rod along but didn’t expect to cast a line. Once I did I was back with an old friend.
I watched the geese flying south. Some were coming in slow for a landing in the shallows, and some flying faster than I thought possible. As they passed overhead I could hear the buzz of their wings below their honks of flight.
The fish were biting and I reeled in several Dolly Varden. They were hiding exactly were I remembered. With a flick of the wrist the barbless hook was loose and the fish swam free.
I let dark sneak up and listened for the geese. The fish started jumping in the river. A few I could see in the half moon but most I could only hear.
The silver tracks marked my path. I thought of how many times I had walked those same tracks when I was a boy after fishing in the same light. For a short time I was back. The worry wasn’t gone but it wasn’t nearly as heavy.