Just like the water. . . .life keeps flowing along. Evenings at the lake, fishing off of Grandma’s dock(Grandma passed away this past winter and no one loved fishing anymore than she did), sunsets and lake-moments. Those lake-moments of time spent with people who you love, more than you can put into words, can be even larger than the fish.
Last night we talked about the lively minnows in our bucket and calculated exactly where the two log snags were, in relation to our casting spots. We watched a little plane fly the length of the lake and smiled at a pontoon full of happy folks that floated by. There appeared a small, brown head in the rippling water. It surfaced 5 or 6 times and we couldn’t decide between calling it a turtle or a beaver. Someone thought they heard a slap on the water later in the evening. We held a contest to see who could catch and release the smallest fish. Dad won! Hearing a little girl voice, somewhere down the lake, yell, “Dad, hurry up, it’s a really big one” gave us a familiar chuckle.
Conversation never gets too deep. It would just feel mean to spoil a perfectly good evening at the lake by talking about grades, business, or anything that would cross the line into the range of ‘intellectual’. It is a good time to bring up past fish stories, dumb jokes, and memories of other family and friends who have fished here over the years.