Monday, September 14, 2009

Fishing Corner

Rounding the curve out of my driveway, I head down to the "pond". It is technically a lake in it's depth & spring-fed movement. It even has a "current & wind-blown beach" when the level is dropped. First to greet me is a cluster of trees: a maple, a bunch of young sumacs & an old, half-fallen locust. It's larger limb drapes in & out of the water. I have to look fast to see the line of turtles sunning themselves, for they will slip off on my approach. In the spring, this tree will have fragrant, wisteria-like clusters of white blossoms. It's limbs above & below the water provide shade & safe harbor for ducks & many fish. It is my favorite place to cast my line. In certain seasons, I simply drop in my bait & pull out a big after another after another. London is out for the predators of those who hide in my fishing tree & works the banks in a wider range. It is such a wonderful bonding time. Walking home we pause to play amidst the shadows cast by the sumacs. They make an amazing pattern of light & dark. We often stay past dark for that very reason.
A few mornings ago, I sat on the gate across the road & watched the life inside this sliver of my world. A woodpecker tapped away, while others laughed & chirped & chased. My baby wrens were there, as were some young goldfinches. Even the young cardinals were dancing in & out of the foliage. The kingfisher chittered in & out, but was too busy to stay long. I heard the occasional splash as bass chased brim. Sounding more like a monkey in a tropical jungle, the pileated woodpecker laughed & screeched digging beetles from a dead pine above me. This small stand of trees blocks the houses from my view & I feel miles from anyone. It was a magical time.

Returning home a few days later, I heard the bulldozers before I saw them....I was able to capture one last image before they fell into the water. Laid bare before me now, is the sameness of vinyl-sided suburbia....I feel so blessed that God led me to take that last morning to watch the life within my fishing tree. It is gone now. I have but to close my eyes & I am there once again, watching & listening.

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