Yesterday was Sunday, therefore it was the day that we have Sunday dinner. It's a tradition that we've borrowed from my cousins just recently, and is proving to be a nice finish to the weekend.
After a fine Mexican feast, I decided to take my 4 year old nephew, Alden to the neighborhood lake for a little fishing. He's been dying for me to take him for a while and it seemed like the perfect evening for it. So I loaded up my spinning rod and a couple fly rods and we headed to the water.
It didn't take long for the little bluegill in the pond to start inhaling the corn I had threaded on his hook, and on the second cast his bobber went down and we had a fish.
Now, I've seen Alden excited before. Like when the Transformers movie came out, or when he opened his Christmas present and discovered Santa had brought him a Bat Cave fully equipped with a trap door. But I have never seen him, or anyone for that matter, as excited as when he caught that first fish. He jumped up and down, clapped his hands, squealed like a little girl, and almost hyperventilated. This was genuine. And his excitement just kept escalating with every fish he reeled in. And he even wanted to take a break and watch me and his dad fish. And when we caught fish, he continued the elation.
It got me to thinking. I guess I started fishing around his age...3 or 4. I believe the first memory I have of fishing is when my dad took me to a little creek down the street from our house. It was cleverly called "the creek", and it held your garden variety of Midwest fish species. If I remember correctly, I believe that I dug up worms prior to the escapade, and red and white bobbers were used. But I remember catching a small mess (def: 5-8 fish)of bluegill and taking them home to fry up in the skillet. Bluegill, and bluegill related panfish have always been called perch where I'm from, which is very incorrect. Regardless, they served as a springboard for what I love doing more than anything...yes, fishing. That particular fishing hole was dubbed "The Laughing Spot" from that day on. And also from that day on, I was hooked...for lack of a better term.
I'm not sure why I love fishing so much. I'm not sure why Alden loves fishing so much. It's a tough activity to dissect. I've read books and magazine articles on why fishing is such a beloved pastime, and while the authors always seem to come up with a few good reasons, they can never really pinpoint why we love it so much. Obviously, there's the seclusion, the closeness with nature, the sport of angling, the art of angling, the science of angling. Or maybe it's a combination of all the above-mentioned along with the physical feeling you get when casting, reeling, hooking, and fighting a fish. I don't know if any fisherman knows exactly why they love it, they just do.
What started at "The Laughing Spot" has turned into a love for the sport, and the outdoors in general. I have fished in bass tournaments and guided fly fishing trips. I have fished lakes, creeks, oceans, rivers, and ponds. I have caught fish two inches long (with Alden Sunday night) and I have caught fish 40 inches long.
After seeing such genuine excitement and enthralment the other night from Alden, I can't help but hope that he gains the same love and appreciation for fishing that I did.
And it all started with a perch.
God bless the perch.
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