Fishing Poetry and Memories

I was reading the Kingsport Times-News today in search of something my student at the Literacy Council may be able to/interested in reading. I happened upon the fishing column, written by George Thwaites. He was talking about a mayfly called the Green Drake:
"Some anglers particularly look forward to fishing the evening spinner falls when the surface is littered with the spent, cruciform 'coffin flies'--the chalky, washed-out females that have finished laying their eggs and have begun the declining drift toward the Styx of insects."

From my standpoint, that is better writing than anything else in the Times-News. It especially beats the "Poetry from Readers," which Alan tortures me with each Sunday. He picks out the most abhorrent to read aloud to me until I plug my ears and sing, "Lah, Lah, Lah."

Reading the fishing column reminded me of all the summer Mondays that I spent fishing with my father. (Because he was a preacher, Mondays were his day off.) My other siblings were gone from home by then, so I became the partner with my father on fishing and baseball games, both of which my mother couldn't stand. Every nice Monday all summer, we would go to one of the lakes or rivers in Louisiana. Usually, we would rent a rowboat and row out to a cypress tree, tie up to the tree, and try our luck. In a silver cooler would be our lunch and cold sodas. If we were lucky on fishing, the cooler would fill up with perch, bream, or other small panfish. I didn't really care if we caught anything; it was just wonderful to be outdoors (except for the Water Moccasins, which I kept a watchful eye out for). The hours would pass in a lazy, comfortable way, with little talk between us. Those were the best times I ever had with my father. One of my students once wrote an essay called, "My Father Loved Fishing and Me." I told her that I thought the title was appropriate for me, also.

What are the best times you had with your father? It would be interesting to hear them from you. Father's Day is coming soon. Share your thoughts/feelings with your father while you still can. My father has been gone for 20 years now.

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