“There’s nothing––absolutely nothing––half so much worth doing as messing about in boats.”
― Kenneth Grahame, The Wind In The Willows
The dog so unsure of this wobbly contraption surrounded by water. Gingerly after lots of coaxing she hopped in with her tail between her legs. As John pushed off from the dock, he took the oars and guided us out to the fish stocked lake. We traded seats, me taking the oars and John setting the lines in the water. Slowly I dipped the oars into the lake, finding my rhythm, learning the song of the water. We had hardly gone a bit when the pole bent. Springing into action, John swiftly jerked the line and I scrambled for my camera. The oars were stowed, the dog frantic, John reeling in the line.
"The charm of fishing is that it is the pursuit of what is elusive but attainable, a perpetual series of occasions for hope." -John Buchan
Then towards the east side of the lake, we dropped the dog off so she could spend a bit on land, while we rowed. As we slipped down the bank 10 feet or so and the dog was busy sniffy, a strike on our line had us scrambling once more.
"I think I fish, in part, because it's an anti-social, bohemian business that, when gone about properly, puts you forever outside the mainstream culture without actually landing you in an institution." -John Gierach
Another fish on our stringer and the dog eagerly made it back into the boat just to be tormented by not one but two fish trailing in the water. It was nearing time for lunch and I could tell by the "rumbly in my tummy" and the fish on the stringer were on the menu.
