this is where the sweetie brought me to fish. the past few days' rains brought the river up quite a bit so it was roiling and brown. and five in the afternoon isn't really the best time to fish. not to mention these platforms are twenty feet above the water with a slope of rock below keeping the bank of the river out at least ten feet from where a person might stand. not so bad for casting, but unpleasant for reeling in. so i had my excuses ready. i lost the first lure when i dragged it across a submerged slab of the old bridge and managed to wedge the thing somehow in a crack of the cement. the sweetie wanted to set me up with something less snaggy. he produced something that looked like a 20 tentacled squid and situated it around the hook so the hook wouldn't snag on brush or any of the other mysteries of the deep. i had me a guaranteed no-snag lure which i lost in a deep section in the middle of the river where the water was pretty fast. i thought i had a fish, really big. i could feel it tug at the line so i was sure i wasn't snagged. when the sweetie took over the reeling in because he was sure i was snagged, even he became convinced that i'd snagged a monster fish. one that didn't move. there was nothing out there- no branches or anything and looking back i probably hooked one of those massive snapping turtles we'd seen submarining around from time to time. but if i did, he got away with that squid lure that was unsnaggable.
i took advantage of my complete failure at fishing and began to wander around the platform with the camera, trying to will the snapping turtles to swim close enough they'd be clear in a photo. turtle minds are impenetrable. frustrated, i was putting the camera away when the sweetie said,
then i did what i see fisherfolk doing all the time. i waited out that bird. it was early evening and he was out fishing. i knew he wasn't going to just sit there all evening staring at me when the fish were starting to jump. the small birds were starting to swarm around like bugs, skimming the water. everyone fishes at the same time. and i waited. he was still the way rabbits get still when they're out in the open and you see them. he moved a heavy claw a bit to the side on the branch and i began to snap photos. i should probably mention here that i have one of those fantastic little digital cameras that thinks for me and most of the time that's fine. i take most pictures on the auto setting. here's the thing about auto setting. the little camera brain says, "hmmmm. let's see. what is it she wants a photo of? is is the thing in the middle of the frame or the thing over to the side? there sure is a lot of stuff here. trees. water. some sort of large bird. well, we'll just try to catch as much of it as we can." and i can hear it whirring inside, focusing back and forth, thinking for me. and then, "well, the light today certainly is challenging. early morning light, but look at all that fog. well, well, well. that's going to be a mess, all fuzzy and way too bright. let's tone things down a bit and we won't use the flash." and no matter how many times i smash down on the button while the camera is thinking, it won't do a thing. it has to be ready. it has to know exactly what it's planning to do, which can take several seconds, before it will allow that stupid button to work.
when you see an eagle out fishing where you're fishing it's like seeing your favorite actor in the diner where you get lunch. you're both in the same place. and for the same reason. and although i know the poor eagle would just like to sit in his booth and order his patty melt and milkshake in peace, i'm always going to be that clod who stumbles over, begging for an autograph right when the food arrives.
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