The Ups and Downs of Birthdays

Adrift in the Laguna Madre. That's why I didn't post yesterday. The Laguna Madre is the water between South Padre Island and the Texas mainland. It is part intercoastal waterway, and part tidal flats. My daughter Mandy and a friend, Chris, took Pappy fishing yesterday. I haven't really been fishing in about eight years. I mean in a nice boat with the proper bait , tackle, and a guy who knows fishing. I was up early (I'm always up early) and doing my part for the venture. I brewed coffee and made enough Pappy McMuffins (egg sandwiches with melted cheese) for us all. All I brought otherwise was my cell phone, camera, and knife. Now that's a generous birthday present. We were on the Arroyo Colorado at daylight and headed for the Laguna Madre with a pretty stiff north wind putting a little chop on the water. I chose the front seat so I could have the sea breeze forced into my nostrils with all the attendant particulates present in our air today. I am just a little stuffy and my face is a little flushed from the sun.

This was the view from my perch. Once we located the shallow bays we wanted to fish, Chris skillfully positioned us on the north end and we drifted with the wind while casting. Everyone on board was successful and we brought home some nice fresh Red fish and Speckled trout fillets. My casting arm is sore, and my body is thankful to be seated in a soft office chair, but I am still savoring the experience of yesterday. Many thanks to all who participated in my birthday weekend, and all who came by to say "Howdy" on the blog. Resting on Sunday. That's what it's for and I intend to take full advantage. I was brought back to reality when the little girls (pre-school to early elementary) from across the street (who come by every afternoon for a brief visit) stopped by and wished me happy birthday. The eldest asked how old I was and when I told her sixty one, her mouth fell open, her eyes widened, and she exclaimed, "No way". It was as though she was looking at a living fossil. I can remember when forty looked old.

Nature shows us only the tail of the lion. But I do not doubt that the lion belongs to it even though he cannot at once reveal himself because of his enormous size. Albert Einstein

Fishing the Creek

In my youth I learned to fish in creeks. My great granny Tish was a master at finding the darkest holes on the creek. This usually meant the most overgrown too. Her old collie dog had been bitten by water moccasins so many times he was virtually immune to the venom. She wore dark colored clothing and a sun bonnet on these fishing expeditions, and if you had on anything light colored you couldn't go. She said the fish could see you and it would scare them off. She carried a short cane pole and a syrup bucket with earth worms in it. As I grew older, I too learned to look for those places where the water was deeper and provided cover for the fish. The short pole was easier to maneuver in those tight places where the tree limbs grew out over the water. Bream, Goggleye, White Perch, and Catfish were the main fish one might expect to catch. I decided to write a poem to try and capture the feel of fishing on the creek.


The Catch

I used to take a short cane pole
and head out for the creek
where tannin colored water ran
like iced tea over white soft sand.
It pooled in bends or near felled
trees in deep black holes where
fishes hid.
With weight and hook and wiggling worm
I’d drop my line and watch the
slender bobber move along in
current like a silent periscope
until it disappeared as some finned denizen
took flight with bait in mouth
before he felt the hook and my swift tug
to bring him upward from the depths.

The future is much like the present, only longer. - Dan Quisenberry