Fishing Isn't About Fish

I was practically raised holding a fishing pole. Being brought up only a short drive from Lake Ontario, and having an avid fisherman for a father, fishing was quite a major part of my young life. Though never as enthusiastic as my older brother, I still developed my favorite spots to fish, I could tell one kind of fish from another better than some adults, and I had no problem baiting my own hooks or grabbing a wriggling, slimy fish with my bare hands.

As I became an adult, the hobby of fishing was pushed out of the way by other activities. Some years I would get my fishing license, and some years I wouldn’t. The sport was more of a memory than a current interest.

This year, I promised my brother I’d get my license and go fishing with him. So, this past Saturday I once again baited my hook with a live worm and cast into a lake. Granted, it’s a much smaller lake than Lake Ontario, but we make do now that we’re in Iowa.

When I was a kid, the best part of going fishing was climbing on the huge rocks of the pier, making my dad proud by landing a big fish, finding abandoned lures, or braving cold north winds to bring home a bucket full of future suppers. Today, I find myself enjoying the sunshine, just spending time with my brother, soaking up nature, and spotting good scenes to snap pictures. My goal for fishing now isn’t really to catch fish, but to relax and enjoy being outside.

On Saturday, I caught one very small bluegill. That was all. My brother was a bit luckier, catching a nice catfish, which he took home for a meal. But despite my ill luck in catching anything, it was a gorgeous morning, I got to be with my brother, I had a nice long walk to the river, I was able to sit and watch the clouds roll in, take some pictures and listen to rumbling thunder on the walk back through the woods. It was heaven to my senses.

Yes, I still fish. But it means something different to me now than it did when I was a kid.