Fish Whisperer with Nature’s Orchestra

The past couple of weeks had been a little stressful for Ben, long hours at work on big projects, balancing schedules out, preparing for a long stay with Mallory, and working hard around the house to make it nice on the outside by Memorial Day weekend.  He really hasn’t had much time to himself.  So last night I suggested we go up to a local casting pond that is in a park near our home, we had at least an hour until sunset, plenty of time to relax.

It doesn’t take long when you get out of the car and see the water for it to wash the stress away for a while.  It wasn’t long before he was bringing in fish after fish.  They aren’t very big at this pond, or at least the ones you catch aren’t.  As I say, the big fish don’t get to be big by getting caught.  It doesn’t seem to matter though when you are there.  He caught blue gill and sunfish and even the world’s smallest bass (barely the size of his pinky finger).  All of which were safely set free so that they might grow up to be big fish.

The pond is really neat for me because I can stand on the side and actually see the fish as they interact with his fly fishing.  It’s not very deep at all.  As the sun began to melt down behind the trees and Ben said, “Just two more casts.” (Which I have found to multiply by 10, because I do the same thing to him) I sat down on the bend and just opened my eyes and ears.  I was inspired by the sounds and beauty of all that surrounded me…


Nature’s orchestra

 Plip plop plip

Soft beat begins

Lazy fish feeding

Surface bugs dance


Twitter tweet whistle

Backup singer call

Birds flutter in

Distant trees nest


Honk rustle splash

Crowds start cheers

Geese landing by

Bodies crash landing


Chirp buzz croak

Band tunes up

Insects and frogs

Anticipation hangs thick


Swish swoosh swish

Lead steps up

Soft lullaby cast

Fish whisper begins  




Sometimes I just don’t understand life.  There are these days,  when there really isn’t a whole lot keeping me busy, and my mind goes off to that dark place that isn’t as warm and comforting as it once was.  It feels like there is this hole inside of me that is missing something, but I am still lost as to what.   Maybe I’ve always been lost.

I went to class like normal, paid attention, turned in my work, passed my tests.  It felt as if I was just going through the motions, like it was all just show, no substance.  I came home and did my chores and my assignments for the next day.  Sat at the table and had dinner alone, mom was off at her night job again.  The phone didn’t ring; no one came to the door.  I just sat there staring off into space, not lonely, just lost.

I took the dog for a walk and saw Jonie, she prattled on about Bobbie, the new boy in town and how dreamy he was.  I smiled and giggle with her for a while, it felt hollow, but she didn’t seem to notice.  After a bit I continued on down the street to the beach at the end.  Sammy, my pup, loved running on the beach, so I set him free off his leash while I sat down in the sand to watch the ocean and the sunset.

There is no place that had sunsets like our town.  The ocean was a deep crystal blue, and the sun would turn oranges and reds like a fireball.  For a few moments, just as the sun touched the horizon, it was as if the ocean was liquid fire, everything blazing with color and beauty.  For a minute, I swear I can hear angels singing with the glory of it all, even Sammy sat down next to me and was still and quiet.  The warmth that radiated from the water, a salty breeze caresses my face, the signing filled my mind.  It was as if this was a moment God was giving us a private preview of his true self.  So bright it was painful to watch, but the beauty captured you and you didn’t want to look away.  My heart soared.

As the last bit of fire dipped beyond the horizon, I stood up and took Sammy home.  Taking a quick shower, I dressed for bed, taking my medication, and hoping that the feeling of peace wouldn’t leave my soul before the next day came to do it all over again.  Waiting for that moment, when I could feel filled again.

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