Call Me Ishmael
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May 27, 2016

Did I mention the humpback whales from Christmas morning?

Son #1 and I celebrated the Christmas sunrise out on a charter boat as we motored out for snorkeling.  We started counting the whales from the jets of mist forced from their blowholes.

1... 2... 3... 24...

On and on. What a beautiful day to spend with my new adult, one year away from moving out and moving on. Exactly what I raised him to do.  Leave the nest. Fly. Be your own person!

Do the wrens feel this way when their little chicks leave?

Ah, now a little closer to present day.  The trout fishing excursion.

I didn't fall in... but it was close!  

Wearing hip waders gives one a certain sense of invincibility.  Until one steps onto a solid looking rock and realizes that rock is balanced on a leeeetle teeeeny pebble and not much is holding it in place.  Oh yeah, I put my faith in what seemed a sure thing and promptly teetered into nothingness.

Thankfully my instructor was right there and grabbed me.  O My Savior! Pull me into your big strong arms!

Because if you don't, I'm going down with a splash!

Big splash.

Scare all of the fish away splash.

Here's the thing.  As I cast my line out multiple times, I didn't get a single nibble. And that was OK.  A huge palomino trout floated just where my hook and spinner landed and it was fun to tease him for a while.  It didn't matter that it was raining, that I was one rock away from a nosedive, or that the temp was a balmy 50 degrees.  I had fun.

And I tried out something I haven't done in over 30 years.

Rock on, fishy.  I'll see you next time.

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