Thursday, January 17, 2008

Fishing with my Father. And other things.

Sorry I missed posting yesterday, but I had a lot going on at work. I did however start it and this is what I wrote:

"Fishing with my Father"

We ate a lot of fish when we were growing up and one reason was because my dad loved to fish and was good at it. On weekend mornings when the tide, wind and temperature were right you could expect him to head out to his secret spot and bring home enough fish for two or three meals. We had fish cooked every way imaginable but we fried it most of the time.

As far back as I can remember, I would beg to go with him because I loved to fish and also because this secret spot was so good. His spot was in the intercoastal waterway just north of Ormond Beach Florida, only a couple of miles from home and on the edge of Tomoka State Park. Dad had a key to get into the park because he was the Fire Chief for the town and he needed access to get in if there was ever a fire.

After unlocking the gate, we would drive in and park as close to the river as we could get and then hike down a small trail to the river’s edge. There were no houses around for miles along this side of the river and we often spooked dear or other animals as we walked along the trail.

When we got to the edge of the river we would get things ready and then quietly wade in and begin to fish. From the bank, this spot looked like any other place along the river but it was what was below the surface that made it so special. For starters it was on the edge of the Tomoka River basin which was wide and shallow. This was the area that connected the basin to the intercoastal river so it was a transition between shallow fresh water and deep salt water. The bottom of the river was sandy and solid and also littered with rocks and oyster shells which attracted bait and larger fish.

FYI: The Tomoka River is where they used to film Tarzan movies with Johnny Weissmuller.

Not only did I enjoy the fishing but also the quiet and beauty of the area. On these still mornings, the stars would still be shining when we started to fish but there would be the faint sign of morning off to the east. The still water shinned like a mirror and the slightest movement of a fish could be seen. It was over a mile to the ocean but you could hear the waves crashing on the beach. As dawn neared, you could hear the sounds of people heading out from homes across the river. It was about a mile across the river at this point but the sound traveled well with nothing to stop it.

Just before dawn, the sky would turn from navy blue to light turquoise and the clouds would lose their dark appearance and turn shades of pink and orange. I would usually stop fishing for a few moments and stand there quietly watching the sky. Suddenly rays of sunshine would burst from the horizon and shoot toward the heavens. Slowly the sun would appear, looking like a huge red ball of fire. The sun’s rays would touch me and I could feel their warmth in the cool morning air. Once the sun was totally above the horizon, I would resume fishing because the fish always bit best at this time of day.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

This morning I planned on posting my entry from yesterday (as is) as soon as I got to work. As I drove in this morning, I had a lot on my mind. My brain was on overtime and skipping from one subject to another like a CD that has gone bad. For some reason, I started thinking about my post and wondered if it meant something deeper. I thought back to my school days and something that used to drive me crazy.

In literature, after reading a poem or short story, the teacher would ask us what the author was thinking or trying to say when they wrote what they did. I always thought this was a waste of time because the only one who knows what the author was thinking was the author and most of them were dead and gone. Our analysis of the work was just a guess based on the person’s life or the time period in which they lived. Anyway I decided to look at what I wrote yesterday and see if there were any underlying meanings or symbolism. This is timely since it is “Thinking Thursday” so here goes:

It reminded me a lot of something that happened when I was even younger. Walking the path in the darkness, My father having the “Key” to get in. Wading in the water,
Being half in and half out, Leaving the darkness for the light. Feeling the warmth and seeing the power. Yes it reminded me of being baptized. It also reminded me of life itself. People rushing around, lost in their daily lives. Struggling to make it from day to day and missing the beauty around them and how people are more than what you see on the surface. So what did the author mean when he wrote "Fishing with my Father"? That is for you to decide.

I hope everyone has a wonderful day.

Greg

7 comments:

Kim S in SC said...

beautiful story and thanks for giving us a peek of what the writer meant. I think the "Author" of Life is really working in you! Praise HIM!
PS: We had a few hours of snow last night! Woohoo!Only a fellow sc'er would understand the excitement!
Kim

Mom23QTs said...

Dad, I have extremely enjoyed these blog posts that include Grandpa. Although I know he wasnt perfect, I feel like I've been able to get to know him a little through you, since I didnt get to know him well before he died. I think there is a lot of deeper meaning in your story, but I also feel like those types of things are personal. I'm not so sure all of the old authors wanted their work analyezed, but to rather give the reader something to enjoy, and take from it, their own meaning to which they themselves can relate to, Guess I'd be a lousy teacher! LOL

Angie said...

You know I love this post...fishing with dad & appreciating those gifts! Great post, Greg! So touching...and I agree with kim in sc.

Wanda said...

This is wonderful Greg. Not only the story but the peek into you, and your thinking on the story.

I have fond memories of going fishing with my dad too. But he did the fishing, and even back then, I was sitting on the bank with my sketch pad and crayons. Memories of being with your Dad is so good.
Thanks!

Margie said...

Hi Greg
I truly enjoyed this post!
Thank you!

When I was a little girl, I used to go fishing with my dad, and your post brought back some wonderful memories for me!

Margie

Celticspirit said...

Very nice story Greg. It's refreshing to hear stuff like this.

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