6.15.05 Free Worms

Did a little wildlife social work this evening. Distributed free worms to a pond full of needy fish. Dad went to fish. To catch something with the worm on his hook. My goal was much more simple: keep the worm on the hook during my spastic casting and the rest was gravy. In actuality, I only lost 1 worm due to something resembling a short seizure that was supposed to be my grand attempt at a nice, long, graceful cast. I did manage a few decent casts and caught 4 fish–3 bluegill and 1 sunfish. Puny but cute. Which I am sure, in a man’s world, would be 2 adjectives they would never wish to be used to describe what they catch. Dad caught 2 bass. One keeper, though dad isn’t much for keeping–even if he does enjoy a good fish fry.
I can’t remember the last time we were fishing together. And I am quite sure this was the first time we ever got to go alone. A little advice for all you gals out there with dads who love to fish/hike/bow hunt/kayak…(and that means you Sadie, Maggie, Emma) go with them before you are 28. Ok maybe not bow HUNTING per se but bow shooting. (I do not like killing things. And was quite sad to see the lower jaw of my sunfish get ripped out because he swallowed the hook too far. Then had to see him belly-up floating by our boat. Catching is fun. Eating is yummy. As for everything in the middle, I’m a girl–leave me out of it!)
So here’s the scene. Dad & I out on the pond in our little aluminum boat with one oar. We must have looked a little like Sandra Bullock and Harry Connick Jr. in Hope Floats. No I didn’t wear a dress and my dad doesn’t do jazz but he was in a band once…I digress. Like the movie, I chattered too much. Once I shut my mouth things got better, more peaceful and even the scenery was more lovely. I thought about taking my camera to capture and document this momentous occasion. I decided I didn’t want the burden–of carrying the camera, of choosing the images, of well, not dropping the camera in the pond. I also didn’t want any disappointments–from the discrepancies between my memory and the images that I had made.
Les Pratt’s pond is an old farm pond. He stocks it with catfish and the like. There are plenty of dead trees around. In fact, the pond is circled by cottonwoods–which, in my opinion, make the best rustling sound in a breeze. In late fall there are geese, and turtles in the summer. We got to see an alligator snapping turtle while we fished and 2 deer on the ride home.
We’re making plans for another little trip soon. We can’t make up for lost time but we can make use of the time that we have. And for that I am thankful.


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