Friday, July 10, 2009
Mom and I kept a close eye on the sky where clouds dog piled forming a towering, ominous white mass as cold and warm air collided. We hoped it wasn't moving in our direction for it was sure to be packing high winds and hail. Meanwhile, we strolled around the Panther Pond. A pretty little spot created by the town as a fishing hole for its residents. In the shallow waters little fish team, the same ones our grand daughters love to catch.
To show them how it's done, we dig worms in the garden and thread them on a fishing hook but in reality, these little fish, what ever they are, don't need a worm to entice them to bite. They'll leap out of the water after a bare hook - but don't tell our grand daughters that- they may get the wrong idea and figure all fish are that stupid.
My fishing abilities are limited and with a spinning rod, I feed more fish than I catch. Good thing our garden has an ample supply of worms. I'm much more adept with a fly rod and so the only spinning rod I use is a short white and red one our kids fished with when they were little and is now used by our grand daughters. I've yet to fly fish this year and I'm itching to go. Maybe, my husband will want to go for his birthday. And I don't mean the local pond but a creek, (or crick as we say it in Wyoming) since lakes and ponds have too many people around them. I love the solitude of the country where I can listen to the sounds of nature. I've caught Browns, Brookies, and Rainbow Trout, but in truth the only fish I really like are the ones that are biting. Fish isn't my favorite choice for dinner so catch and release suites me perfectly.
For today, Mom and I were mainly interested in the resident Canadian Geese. Presently, there are three adults and six goslings. How do you tell a male and female goose apart? I'm not looking for an answer like the one the expert on snakes gave me who said you could tell the difference between a rattlesnake and a bull snake by the shape of their pupil. And I'm sure I could - but I don't care to.
We watched as they grazed and then as we drew a little closer they trailed into the water.
This Red-winged Blackbird wasn't very cooperative as he kept flitting from cattail to cattail.
P.S. The storm went around us.