Sunday, January 1, 2012

Drawn to water

The mighty Mississippi

Water.

Or as my dad would sing (in the most annoying voice EVER)..."Water water everywhere but not a drop to drink".  He is in his late 70's, but as much as I want to; I can't blame his weirdness on his age.  He has always been like that.

Anyway, I just returned from a weekend trip to the homeland.  Trips to where I grew up always bring back memories, and get me thinking.  This trip happened to take place over the annual celebration of putting one year on the books, and diving into the next.  New Year's Eve.  Another opportunity for someone like me to jump inside of my own head.

A visit to the riverfront with my kids and dad really seemed to send me into nostalgia land.  In  our own generations, both my dad and I grew up in the same Mississippi River town.

We are both drawn to the water.

He didn't say anything to me about it.  I just know.  I understood the look of peace that washed over him while we were there.  It was the physical manifestation of what I was feeling inside.  We were at home.

MacLoosh approved gull scattering

My kids were thrilled to be there too.


Their way of showing it was to pester the seagulls and ducks.


All smiles and excess energy, they were only too happy to let the gulls settle down, then say to me (with no small amount of mischief in their eyes) "Dad, watch this!" and they took off running to spook the gulls into flight.


The reason that I had brought everyone on this little outing was to round up some driftwood.  (Later posts and photos will reveal the reason for the driftwood). We were all on a purposeful search.     

We did well.  Mission accomplished.  Everyone found some excellent pieces and the kids came away with clam shells and whitewashed fish bones that they are certain came from some giant prehistoric fish that has never been seen by human eyes, but washed up on the beach just for them to find.

The driftwood was something that I suppose I could have gone to Petsmart or any other aquarium supply store to get, and I am pretty sure  my wife still isn't sure why I needed it, but the simple truth is that I DID need it, and to get it from the homeland was the only way I would accept it.

It wasn't until the drive home today (aided by an MP3 player to help drown out everything except my own thoughts) that something fairly big, and possibly totally obvious, occurred to me.

Among the reasons I fish so hard, and spend so much time on the stream is because I need it.  I need the water around me to help me get centered.  It is the water that does it.

The fish? Well, they are just kind of the icing on the cake.


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