Bleached by the sun it lay in peace. What was once living has now been stripped by what’s still alive. It’s natures way of reminding us that mortality is inevitable, but there once was a time it roamed our waters.
The day started like any other. The dark gave way to the light, and in the shadows of an anchor light I laced up my wade boots. My fingers stiff by to many trips around the sun make a once simple task a little more labor intensive but muscle memory takes over to complete the task.
The wind, now southeast, ruffles the surface of the water but its nothing of concern. As a matter of fact, it’s so slight the moisture surrounding that same light dims it ever so slightly.
Now peering to the south, my eyes make out the silhouette of a cow grazing the banks. Its size is hard to mistake and with visibility growing more the minute you see a white spot between its shoulders.
For centuries people have stood where I find myself currently. Granted some had different motives, I would like to think they at least stood in silence and appreciated the earth coming to life. If not, I consider it there loss but I find myself doubting that motive. After all, the blend of colors especially orange and pink melding with blues and green make it a portrait painted since our ancestors.
With every step water rushes around my legs. It’s refreshing. Energized, I continue to work a scattered grass ledge along the main bay shoreline. Birds once perched are now airborne continuing their life’s work. Pelicans in bands of three soar overhead as laughing gulls mock their prestige. Turns cackle together while shorebirds hunt to my left. In the distance an outboard breaks the natural rhythm cutting the air with a stereo larger than life. Consider me cynical but the world already has enough noise but I get it and wish them well as their outboard fades.
My first fish leaves a lot to be desired but it validates that the lion isn’t far from the gazelle. So an hour later, I turn back toward my boat with a dozen saying hello between now and then. I now shift focus even shallower. Water now cresting just below my knee, it swirls in the distance. I send my lure to explore.
A wise man once said, “There’s a fine line between fishing and standing on the shore like an idiot.” Questioning my intellect, I twitch my lure in the diminishing water column until it happens. On a pause with no rhyme or reason, my lure got lost in one of those flushes aforementioned.
Rearing back, my mind couldn’t tell if it was me or my rod that groaned. Still processing what just happened my reel screamed in short burst while my line played another tune as it cut through the water with what felt like Mach 4.
Tracing my line, I do my best to peer past its entry point into the water to confirm the species. Its power leads me to believe it’s copper in color with a single black dot but its acceleration and shiftiness give you pause. Personality defines us in society but the same could be said below the surface. Our world equivalent for this fish would be tenacious. Then it happens.
With a quick directional change, the fish’s tail emerges above the surface and I make out a dark border. Taking in line, her head slides right and accelerates toward the tip of my rod - my hands match her pace.
Now chin up, the trout does its best to dip its eyes below the suns glare. Thinking for a second, my hands reach for your landing tool. Unable to find blindly, I take my focus off the fish to look down and in just that split second she was gone.
Now with my hands on my knee’s a few obscenities come to mind, but a laughing gull breaks the silence. Its fitting cackle leads me to believe I’d be better suited for a school age playground being made fun of. Heartbreak comes in many forms, but the one between an angler and a fish fighting for its freedom, hurts the worst.
So here I am on the bank of that main bay shoreline many months later staring at a bleached trout skull. Somber by the days fishing my mind reflects and considers for a brief moment if this was her. Once alive but now dead you reflect back that maybe she was the one who left you broken hearted.
Our mortality is inevitable as evident by the decaying carcass laying at my feet. Pausing for a moment I take solace knowing she once roamed our waters and my mind goes back to that day. In the blink of an eye, my mind replays every subtle detail. Now smiling, I find myself appreciating her life because, although brief, her life once brought the same to mine.