A Good Evening of Fishin'

I came home from work this evening to find Will had one of his best friends over to play on this muggy Friday afternoon.  They were standing over a fallen limb like a soldier that had just breathed his last breath, with purpose and intrigue.  I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through their 10 year old minds, what their plans were for this fallen soldier.  “We are going to use this limb to build a fort”, they said.  Perfect!  What a great idea!  So I gave them a hand saw and hatchet to put to good use cutting it up into pieces for the grand fort I envisioned.  Well, they got it cut up and vanished.  There it laid; in a pile that looked to be burned rather than the fort that I had envisioned.  I called for them and found that they were playing on the computer in his room.  Now, I’m not totally against computers and such, but there is so much more that two 10 year old boys could be doing on a Friday evening at 6:30 other than playing inside….on the computer.

With all that being said, I sent them down to the pond at the bottom of the hill with two fishing poles, a tackle box and some stale bread.  Molly and I walked down there a little later to check on the fisherman who had marched down the hill with purpose and excitement.  We found them frustrated that they couldn’t keep the bread on the hooks that resulted in what I call, “fishing on credit”.  I made them some small bait and showed them how to wet the bread a little and “mash” it into a small ball that will stay on the hook and not float away.  Now, we were in business!  Over the next 45 minute to an hour  I must have watched them catch 50 small bream and shiners, all the while Molly helping put the fish back in the water.  This success wasn’t a result of my wonderful bread ball making ability, rather it is all the fish that have washed down from the upper lake during hurricanes and huge thunderstorms we have here in North Florida.  I sat and watched with complete satisfaction.  Some people watched Fox News and CNN this evening; I watched three kids excited with every cast and the joy of a job well done.  My favorite moment is always when the rodeo begins as they get the fish off the hooks only to drop them on the dock and have them flop and thrash about until they are put back in the water.  I sit hoping  they won’t get finned, but they’ll live and learn.

Molly and I walked back home to get something to drink and the truck; as it was getting late and time to call it a day.  The boys each caught one more fish, gathered their gear and headed back to the truck as I arrived  at the pond.  With the  my three fisherman’s feet dangling from the tailgate, we made our way back up the hill towards home. As a kid myself, this was how I remember the ride home from the barn with my grandfather at the end of the day.  It was hot and muggy as if the thick Bahia grass would just hold the moisture until the fall winds would blow it away.  It didn’t matter back then; that was just the way it was.  I was a kid, just like the ones on my tailgate, oblivious of how good this world can be; or just how ruthless it can be.  As we closed out the day with a good evening of fishing,  we all saw the good side of life.  And as for the fort, well it will just have to wait for another day.