I’ve come to these places dozens of times since the last fish headed south in November.
On clear bright days to feel the sun reflect off the water.
In advance of storms to breath in that haunting silence that occurs just before the first snowflake falls.
In the bitter cold when nothing moves.
In the midst of blizzards to listen to the rage and fury of wind and water and be reminded that as much as we try to push her back, Mother Nature will always be more powerful.
To watch the sun rise and paint the fresh canvas that She always leaves behind.
I come to these places because even in the off season they are part of my day, of most of what I do, of nearly every thought. Thoughts of sweet long casts to the skinny water in the back corner, schoolies racing out from behind pilings to crush a topwater, happy fish sipping on a shrimp hatch at the edge of the grass…the possibility of the next cast.
Winter has passed. Spring begins.
North River, MA
30 March 2015