Why on earth do we pull ourselves out of bed on a weekend time after time in all parts of the year, trudge over snow and stand in cold wind on the icy banks of a river in winter flow?
This 20″ hook-jawed brownie just off spawn is one good reason. But there’s greater answer, I suspect, than a 4-pound trout in hand.
We fish because the line connects us to something. Every cast into dark water is a toss of hope. Every calculated, carefully placed lure or fly is the laying out of thought toward an understanding that all things relate if we just hold ourselves sane.
Every fisher’s river is the flow of life. The fish within are energies that, once hooked, surge and struggle within our souls to find place. Poetic? Perhaps. Real? For sure. We just express it in different ways.
Fishers fish because they must. We fish because we find solace and peace in the art of it. We fish because the contact we make to a flowing reality is testimony to life lived fully. We’re there because tugging fish pull something out of us that’s tangible, honest and lasting.
Why do you fish? Let us know.
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