Good Fishing

Rowing through ponds, up quiet streams and navigating through hidden currents just to get to that one corner where the moonshine pours down upon the water in a way that gets the fish a-jumpin for a bite to eat! Still hours, reflection on character and trait. Laughing to yourself at memories tucked away into the folds of the mind. Admiring the Beauty of the night, the peaceful serene situation it sets. Jus chillin. The world was left back about two creek bends and a quarter mile of steady rowing. Here. Off in the backwoods, south of worries and a bit north of stress…yeah this is good fishing.

Moon moves across the sky, takes a quick peek into the clouds as they drift—lofty in flight…stars dancing soft sifting as the water kisses against the bank and rocks rhythm into the boat. Scenic Romancing. Mental preoccupations flow with the current, sent adrift. Baiting the hook, winding up, stretching back and letting it all Fly….the last leaves falling off the trees along the bank; drifting, floating, a whirl and spin—clean landing and a ripple of applause spreads across the sight…what a peaceful perusing night. Wandering through the mind as the stream tugs gently on the line. Reflection, the moon in the pond.

Young again, running into things, tied towels become superhero capes. Back when broccoli, carrots and lettuce (hell, anything green or healthy) was nothing more than rabbit food. Flowing streams sing the tune of nostalgia.