F
flyguyfishing
Active member
- Joined
- May 31, 2009
- Messages
- 165
COVID provided me time to write. No sense in writing without sharing. I wrote this about a year ago, perhaps some here will appreciate it.
I enjoy fly-fishing. The thrill of fooling a fish, landing a fish, and releasing a fish is sometimes trivial, though. As I stand in a stream rhythmically casting my fly, I gain a heightened awareness and, when conditions are just right, clarity.
I become aware of the water cycle. At times, the stream’s flow is powerful enough to knock me down. Other times, the same stream is a gentle trickle. I wonder about the journey of the water. Did this water molecule evaporate from the Atlantic Ocean, the Caribbean Sea, one of the Great Lakes, or locally? This most unique molecule has certainly had quite a journey – temporarily providing life only to return to this stream to sooth my ears as it flows into its future.
I become aware of the life cycle of the insects I imitate to bait the unsuspecting fish. Most of these insects live a relatively short life - a year. They spend nearly their entire lives underwater as creepy crawlers clinging to rocks and the stream bed. They feed. They grow. Eventually, they hatch by sprouting wings. They fly free in the air, but only for a short time – most often days – until they fulfill their life’s purpose – lay eggs for the next generation to do it all over again. Remarkably, these insects hatch about the same time every year but have no clocks.
I become aware of the geological cycle. Streams have different characteristics due to their geology. Most often, I fish in a Karst Topography region. Karst Topography is heavily influenced by limestone. The erosion of limestone creates many clean springs improving the habit for trout, my preferred target. Geological time is nearly impossible for a single human life to notice. It is slow and methodical yet unstoppable. The exposed rock faces I see are great books of history – reminders of times when this landscape was drastically different. I am not fluent in this language, but I understand enough to get by as a foreigner. Once, where I stand now, was most likely tropical – full of vegetation – and south of the equator. The giant raft-like structure I am on set sail long ago impacting everything on the land. The once majestic mountains surrounding me have all but withered away to high hills. I give thanks to all these past events; they have enabled me to fish today in this stream.
I become aware of the cosmos. When the water is low and clear, fish are easily spooked by my shadow. Water temperature and sunlight can be a guide to where the fish are hiding. If the water temperature is warm, trout will flock to the shade. As a result, I need to be mindful of the sun. This well-balanced ball of gas is ideally positioned and quite perfect for my being and my fishing – not too hot and not too cold. The sun dwarfs in comparison to the size and energy of other stars. These giant atom factories appear as twinkles in the night yet are magnitudes more powerful than the sun. They fused most of the atoms in which I am composed – trillions of miles away. Yet here these atoms are - part of me and the building blocks of everything I sense. Is the creation of the atoms at distant stars and the journey they undertook random? If so, we should celebrate - for we have won the lottery of all lotteries. If not random, I give thanks to whatever guided their journey.
I become aware of plant lifecycle. Plants along the stream and in the stream offer protection from predators – another clue to help catch fish. In the summer, I need to hack my way through thick, high growth to get to the stream; some small streams have so much growth they are nearly unfishable. In the winter, my trip to the stream has significantly less obstacles. Watching the Earth come to life each spring is quite refreshing. The plants take energy from the sun, water and nutrients from the soil, and CO2 from the air to generate the O2 I need to live. Fish rely on the O2 as well, but probably have no inkling regarding its origin. I am comforted by having the aptitude to be aware.
I become aware of the air. Fly-fishing is difficult in windy conditions. I need to shorten my casts and use small, weighted flies. The force of wind is generated by the movement of the particles within the air caused by differences in atmospheric pressures. Just as the hydrogen atoms covalently bonded to oxygen atoms in the stream can knock me over during high flows, the particles in the air can blow my fly line. Light travels through the air so effortlessly it is difficult to notice air as something. It is something. It is the same something as each of us, a composition of particles. Today, a gentle breeze is cooling me, but what will tomorrow bring? I am hopeful the air will continue to provide ideal conditions in the future.
Fly fishing has taught me to take notice.
However, fly-fishing also has another element: the rhythmic casting of my fly line with a focused gaze toward my fly as it floats downstream. I do not want to miss a fish’s strike, so I must concentrate on the fly. I am so concentrated on my floating fly that I often see it when I close my eyes for a good night’s rest. This singular concentration of my fly coupled with total awareness of my surroundings is where the beauty happens while fly-fishing. Peace and calmness are felt. I sense the world through a different lens. The boundaries that define each object fade, resulting in a unity. The water, air, cosmos, geology, life cycles, and me lose their defining elements and become one. A new reality emerges. Each of us creates our own unique realities within the confines of our minds; this reality can change. Within this realm time does not exist; it becomes a figment of the human imagination. Within this realm is nothing, yet everything. Within this realm clarity is found. To me, it is the ultimate catch.
Sometimes a fly-fishing trip results in many fish caught. Sometimes a fly-fishing trip results in no fish caught. Sometimes a fly-fishing trip results in clarity. I never know what a fishing trip will entail, but I enjoy them all. I hope you find your fly-fishing; magic and beauty surrounds all of us – always! Can you sense it? Advances in science and our understanding of the universe should not undermine the magic; it should enhance it and enable us to be aware on a higher level. We learn to heighten our awareness. I fly-fish to enable my learning.
I enjoy fly-fishing. The thrill of fooling a fish, landing a fish, and releasing a fish is sometimes trivial, though. As I stand in a stream rhythmically casting my fly, I gain a heightened awareness and, when conditions are just right, clarity.
I become aware of the water cycle. At times, the stream’s flow is powerful enough to knock me down. Other times, the same stream is a gentle trickle. I wonder about the journey of the water. Did this water molecule evaporate from the Atlantic Ocean, the Caribbean Sea, one of the Great Lakes, or locally? This most unique molecule has certainly had quite a journey – temporarily providing life only to return to this stream to sooth my ears as it flows into its future.
I become aware of the life cycle of the insects I imitate to bait the unsuspecting fish. Most of these insects live a relatively short life - a year. They spend nearly their entire lives underwater as creepy crawlers clinging to rocks and the stream bed. They feed. They grow. Eventually, they hatch by sprouting wings. They fly free in the air, but only for a short time – most often days – until they fulfill their life’s purpose – lay eggs for the next generation to do it all over again. Remarkably, these insects hatch about the same time every year but have no clocks.
I become aware of the geological cycle. Streams have different characteristics due to their geology. Most often, I fish in a Karst Topography region. Karst Topography is heavily influenced by limestone. The erosion of limestone creates many clean springs improving the habit for trout, my preferred target. Geological time is nearly impossible for a single human life to notice. It is slow and methodical yet unstoppable. The exposed rock faces I see are great books of history – reminders of times when this landscape was drastically different. I am not fluent in this language, but I understand enough to get by as a foreigner. Once, where I stand now, was most likely tropical – full of vegetation – and south of the equator. The giant raft-like structure I am on set sail long ago impacting everything on the land. The once majestic mountains surrounding me have all but withered away to high hills. I give thanks to all these past events; they have enabled me to fish today in this stream.
I become aware of the cosmos. When the water is low and clear, fish are easily spooked by my shadow. Water temperature and sunlight can be a guide to where the fish are hiding. If the water temperature is warm, trout will flock to the shade. As a result, I need to be mindful of the sun. This well-balanced ball of gas is ideally positioned and quite perfect for my being and my fishing – not too hot and not too cold. The sun dwarfs in comparison to the size and energy of other stars. These giant atom factories appear as twinkles in the night yet are magnitudes more powerful than the sun. They fused most of the atoms in which I am composed – trillions of miles away. Yet here these atoms are - part of me and the building blocks of everything I sense. Is the creation of the atoms at distant stars and the journey they undertook random? If so, we should celebrate - for we have won the lottery of all lotteries. If not random, I give thanks to whatever guided their journey.
I become aware of plant lifecycle. Plants along the stream and in the stream offer protection from predators – another clue to help catch fish. In the summer, I need to hack my way through thick, high growth to get to the stream; some small streams have so much growth they are nearly unfishable. In the winter, my trip to the stream has significantly less obstacles. Watching the Earth come to life each spring is quite refreshing. The plants take energy from the sun, water and nutrients from the soil, and CO2 from the air to generate the O2 I need to live. Fish rely on the O2 as well, but probably have no inkling regarding its origin. I am comforted by having the aptitude to be aware.
I become aware of the air. Fly-fishing is difficult in windy conditions. I need to shorten my casts and use small, weighted flies. The force of wind is generated by the movement of the particles within the air caused by differences in atmospheric pressures. Just as the hydrogen atoms covalently bonded to oxygen atoms in the stream can knock me over during high flows, the particles in the air can blow my fly line. Light travels through the air so effortlessly it is difficult to notice air as something. It is something. It is the same something as each of us, a composition of particles. Today, a gentle breeze is cooling me, but what will tomorrow bring? I am hopeful the air will continue to provide ideal conditions in the future.
Fly fishing has taught me to take notice.
However, fly-fishing also has another element: the rhythmic casting of my fly line with a focused gaze toward my fly as it floats downstream. I do not want to miss a fish’s strike, so I must concentrate on the fly. I am so concentrated on my floating fly that I often see it when I close my eyes for a good night’s rest. This singular concentration of my fly coupled with total awareness of my surroundings is where the beauty happens while fly-fishing. Peace and calmness are felt. I sense the world through a different lens. The boundaries that define each object fade, resulting in a unity. The water, air, cosmos, geology, life cycles, and me lose their defining elements and become one. A new reality emerges. Each of us creates our own unique realities within the confines of our minds; this reality can change. Within this realm time does not exist; it becomes a figment of the human imagination. Within this realm is nothing, yet everything. Within this realm clarity is found. To me, it is the ultimate catch.
Sometimes a fly-fishing trip results in many fish caught. Sometimes a fly-fishing trip results in no fish caught. Sometimes a fly-fishing trip results in clarity. I never know what a fishing trip will entail, but I enjoy them all. I hope you find your fly-fishing; magic and beauty surrounds all of us – always! Can you sense it? Advances in science and our understanding of the universe should not undermine the magic; it should enhance it and enable us to be aware on a higher level. We learn to heighten our awareness. I fly-fish to enable my learning.
