Jan 30

Fishing for a Beautiful Morning

It was a beautiful morning and nothing was wrong.
I watched the morning mist curl over the midsummer blue water, looping and swirling, from the window of the truck as we drove by.
It seemed to be alive, which made this morning all the more magical.
We parked and after the rough hum of the truck turned off, a special silence enveloped us.
It made me feel like we were the only people left in the world, just me and him. I kind of liked it.
Dad and I pulled the canoe out of the bed of our barely-operating, tan 1998 GMC Sierra onto the crunchy gravel of the Lake Fairlee boat launch.
Heaving it to the water, it slid on the water without so much of a splash, some drops flying up onto my legs. The sudden coldness made me shiver and smile.
After we got our poles and gear, we wobbled onto the canoe, tittering and tottering, despite the land a few feet away.
Finally, Dad pushed the ground through the shallow, green water with his oar and we were off.
For the next hour, we rode through the labyrinth of mist and gusts of wind that smelled of swamps and fish. I liked to pretend that we were explorers, and we were on the brink of discovering a new land, one with a united people who will be happy and not have all the human faults that plague the rest of us.
The 5 AM sun was starting to peak over the mountains, casting ladders of light around us through the fog, giving us a sense of direction in this maze.
My mouth quirked up a little as I rock the boat a little, causing Dad to ruffle his feathers and remind me not to move too much.
I responded with a cast of my pole, which flew, flew, flew, only to jerk to a stop twenty feet away and fall disappointingly into the water.
Dad casted his out much farther, and not one to be shown up, I reeled mine back in quickly and tried again, although to no avail.
I eventually gave up, and was happy to sit in silence with Dad as we glided over the water, my hair and clothes slightly damp from all the mist.
The fish didn’t like our bait, even when we woke up early to catch them. At the end of the day, we brought home a few measly pumpkin seeds, but I didn’t mind.
It was a beautiful morning, and it stayed that way.