Monday, January 12, 2015

Gone fishing ...

Ice fishing is a concept I like to think about --- from a well-insulated, sheltered distance while admiring the initiative of hardier sorts who do it.

I didn't go down to lakeside at Red Haw yesterday afternoon to see what sort of luck these guys were having --- I'd have had to climb back up the hill, which is kind of steep right here.

And I was just fishing in general on a Sunday afternoon, out to see what was going on after temperatures climbed to near the freezing point for the first time in several days.

There were a few cars on the road --- just looking --- during the 45 minutes or so I was meandering around; and a few others who had parked their vehicles and were walking.

Two men who apparently had encountered each other while hiking were deeply involved in in what appeared to be a calm and thoughtful conversation just round the bend and headed downhill east from the campground driveway (it was mild enough Sunday to stand still for some time without freezing into place).

I drove on in and spent maybe half an hour admiring the shapes of the trees, the patterns of snow on black ice (remember how smooth that black ice is to skate on?), birds careening from limb to limb (all of which moved too fast for me), thinking that if I'd planned ahead I could have lighted a fire in the big shelter fireplace. 

When I drove back out to head  home, the same talkers were standing in exactly the same place --- still talking. Neither seemed worse for the wear.

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