Casting

the long cast

dancing over dawn’s still waters

forever moments

In my late 20s I took up fly fishing. Something about casting a fly line appealed to me. This is not to judge other kinds of fishing, but the whirl and dancing of the fly line is deeply satisfying, and catching a fish – even a small one – on a lightweight fly rod is quite exhilarating. It’s been a long time since I went fly fishing.

Earlier this week I dusted off my fly rod and found some flies (‘lures’) and had some fun casting away. My first time out was a disaster – the fly line got caught up in everything, I kept snagging lily pads, and a breeze came up which meant my canoe (which is one without a keel) twirled about. 

My second time out was more successful, if one measure fishing success as good casting, calm waters, and the occasional bite. I did pull in a smallmouth bass after a decent fight. I took out the hook, gave the fish a nod, wished it well, and tossed it back into the lake. 

It will swim another day; I will fish another day.

I remember now why I love fishing: it’s about the stillness, the waiting, the focus. It is meditation on the water.