Monday, November 27, 2006

the life of a flyfisher

The sunrise greeted him from the east as he slowly walked through the calm and shallow water in hopes of a good day on the river. He could see his "friends" rising in the distance for their morning feed. He smiled. With his walking stick in hand, he entered the deeper water with his waders shielding him from the frigid water. It was a cool autumn morning. His favourite time of year. The bright orange leaves still on their branches overlooking the riverbank. The scenery perfect and serene. He paused, looked around and sighed. He takes it all in.

His first cast is always as graceful as ever. Strong, smooth, consistent. He is now fishing. The line running downstream; fly in sight. He repeats a few casts while he enjoys the solitude. A time for reflection. A time to give thanks. Suddenly, a jolt, a splash. A beautiful brown trout! He brings it in quickly; wide grin on face, steady hand. He gently releases his friend back into the water and bids him a fine farewell until next time.

I love you Gerard, my husband, Fischer's dad, my friend.

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