Instead he's next to me, breathing heavily while the clouds of silver and iron bloom across the sky outside the bedroom windows. It's quiet and calm this morning, as it was last night when Violet left for her first ever sleepover at Ma & Pa's house.
A special treat for her, a needed treat for us, a first for all three of us.
Our comforter is worn and weathered in the best way and the thought of sinking deeper into it to enjoy just another hours sleep or so is absolutely charming, but it's time to get going. It's hard, but eventually we peel away those soft white linens and ready ourselves for a day of fishing, just the two of us.
As we head out the door, fishing poles and tackle boxes haphazardly filling the backseat, the gravid clouds finally break with a sprinkle of rain. Neither one of us had wanted to puzzle together a breakfast with all the odd veggies, fruits, and miscellaneous items from the cupboards. A stop at the gas station for bait, and a $2 deal for 2 warm and greasy crispitas and 2 small burritos later and we are prepared and on our way. Opening packets of spicy Cholula and applying the sauce to the slightly oiled wraps wasn't exactly my idea of a breakfast, but I can't deny there was something comforting about the heartiness of our meager meal paired with the warm drizzle steadily hitting the windshield.
We drove the 20-30 minutes to the dam, crossing the railroad tracks, traveling down a steep dirt hill and parked a few meters away from the bridge under construction. Bug spray, supplies, bottles of water in hand, we made our way down to the river. It's low, perfect for catfish and perhaps the occasional carpe and bass. It's also perfect for swamp-like conditions; slippery green algae a plenty, and the sharp buzzing of gnats and mossies.
We ready our lines with wriggly night crawlers and make our first casts. Immediately Cristian hooks a small catfish and sets the pace for the day. The rain helps with getting the fish to bite and very soon we are catching fish at a pretty steady pace, I even hooked my first bass. I struggle now and then with getting hooks out and once with a pretty big tangle in the line, but we keep at it. No cell phone service, no music, nothing but the steady beats of nature to entertain our senses. Drips from rain drops, splashes from jumping fish catching mosquitos or flies, the squish of mud underneath our boots; and it's all beautiful.
There are big fish in these waters. We watch as they occasionally surface to show off their large scales and fins, we search for the large dark spots in the water where they rest, teasing and taunting us by being JUST outside our reach, or, within and not showing any interest in the bait. Every now and then one will stir and get close enough to see color, causing large ripples to undulate out to the rocks where we stand.
It's infuriating, but also fascinating. It's all about patience, and casting over and over again; something we need to be subjected to here and there to put things into perspective. I don't think it's ever really about catching a fish (though I will not deny the absolute THRILL of feeling a tug on the line), but more about the peace, rawness and unknown which comes from working at nature's slow, steady pace. Maybe you won't catch anything, maybe you will catch the big one, but either way I always feel more equipped to face our fast paced world after spending a few hours on the river. I don't want to analyze it too much, it's a pleasure, it's a joy, it's an adventure and this little get away was exactly what we needed.
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