Saturday, June 11, 2005
Fishing:Joy and Horror
It was an hour of lessons learned. I kept telling Joseph, "You've got to watch your fishing pole or a big fish will come and pull it into the water right down the river." Which is exactly what happpened about ten minutes after this fish was back in the river swimming away. He wasn't watching it and I wasn't either. The pole was resting on a large rock and started making noise as it made the long trip over the rock, at which time Joseph began to cry. I was trying to calm him down and running after the pole at the same time, almost joining the pole as it submerged out into the river.
So we left without a fishing pole, with a container of worms. It was the third pole I've lost in my life to a fish. I remember my grandfather losing his pole once as he was tending to my pole (I was probably a few years older than Joseph at the time).
I can only imagine the "shark" that Joseph dreamt about last night as he replayed the fish that pulled his fishing pole into the water.