WELCOME

My photo
I've fished for as long as I can remember, moving from bait to spinning, then to fly fishing much later in my life. But I must confess that I still may leave my fly rod behind to wander the stream with my spinning gear. While this 'blog' focuses on my piscatorial pursuits, it may at times digress.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Canoe fishing

These lakes

These lakes are scratches
gouged by glaciers
from rocks 
which were new
when life began.

Blood flows thickly
over old wounds
to knit a healing scab
leaving just a faint scar.

Stir not
these calm waters
nor linger
o’er faint lines.

Paddle lightly
to the sunset
sending ripples
to the dawn.




Lake moments

Not sure what it is
about this land
that grabs you
but I was grabbed
long ago.

Trip's last night
stayed up late
sipping remnant whiskey
as sun set red
neath hills dark shoulders.

Crisp morning
up before six
lake like glass
rustle up the fire
and make coffee
rest of camp
sound asleep
so I solo

Start in the back bay
release a hammer handle
then troll the north shore
into a freshening wind
nothing.

Move to deeper water
perhaps a morning walleye
but the wind’s up,
and sparkling sun
puts fish down
still nothing.

End of lake
head back
cast the shoreline
snag a bush
retrieve the lure
test line – it snaps.
Change lures
Tom got a good fish
in these narrows
but today
nothing.

Ignore my watch,
change to a deeper lure
last point, a satisfying tug
good pike – strong fish
open water, use net
she’s mine.

Back to camp
fresh fillets for home
and memories 
of when 
the lake 
was mine.