When a person lives in the midst of waters, a person lives on fish in one way or another. Ever since I was a tiny little girl I’ve loved fishing. Looky here:
That is my little self, with a fish that I caught on a bent safety pin and a piece of sturdy thread tied to a wooden ruler. Waste not want not. I wish we had pictures of me fishing for sunfish and crappie under the willows at the edge of Boom Lake. Ah well. I keep the memories close at heart.
There is more to fishing than the meditative aspect. Fish like beautiful places. They can’t help it, it’s genetic. Antrim County is a good place to go fishing.
See what I mean? We are spoiled for choice Around Here. Especially in blessed autumn. Soon enough I will be grousing about s*** and fuel bills. But just for now . . . let’s go fishing.
Torch Lake Views 
WOL
October 7, 2012
You reminded me of the old query, “Are you catching, or just fishing?”
Gerry
October 7, 2012
Just fishing is fine with me.
tootlepedal
October 7, 2012
You almost tempt me to go fishing myself but not quite. I’ve tried it and even in such a lovely place as you show, I just don’t have the patience.
Gerry
October 7, 2012
You could come along to a likely fishing spot and spend the time taking pictures of the birds. Gulls, cormorants, terns, kingfishers, green herons, an occasional eagle.
tootlepedal
October 7, 2012
That sounds like more fun than fishing.
Gerry
October 7, 2012
It is fishing, sort of. The birds are certainly fishing. You are catching them at it. I am staring into the water thinking. The Forest Ranger is catching fish. It’s all good.
P.j. grath
October 7, 2012
You really caught a fish with a ruler, thread, and safety pin? REALLY?! I can imagine the trying, but the success floors me. You were amazing even as a child, Gerry!
Gerry
October 7, 2012
I did. My father didn’t believe it either. He rigged it up to shut me up while he tried out his brand new rod and reel. He didn’t catch anything, but if you look closely, you can see my fish dangling from my little fist. It looks like a lake perch to me.
shoreacres
October 7, 2012
Remember that cane pole and red-and-white bobber I mentioned? That belonged to Little Me. I used it when my dad and I fished for sunfish and crappie along the edge of the Raccoon River in central Iowa. Now I don’t fish, but I watch a lot of fishermen making do with our local waters. They’d be certain they’d died and gone to heaven if they could fish in the midst of “all that” you’re showing us.
I’m sitting here listening to our weekend “outdoor show” on radio. I believe I’m going to call in and tell those boys to try out a ruler and safety pin.
Gerry
October 7, 2012
I do remember your cane pole and bobber. Anyone who fishes can enjoy it anywhere there is a bit of water with a fish or two in it. While it is definitely true that it is better to come home with a nice catch of edible fish, it is good to come home with a story and a good attitude.
Karma
October 7, 2012
Love that picture of little Gerry! That is a lovely shot in the middle; I imagine it won’t be long before those trees are completely afire with color.
Gerry
October 7, 2012
There are places where the leaves have all fallen, places where they’re all green, and places where the Big Show is in full spate. It pays to go for a long walk or a short ride.
sybil
October 7, 2012
Somehow I can’t relate that last photo of the high power motor boat and all that equipment with the first two shots. Even the scenery lacks the beauty of the second shot.
It’s like being on a quiet walk in the woods and having an ATV roar by. 😉
Gerry
October 7, 2012
Ah. I should have pulled back to show the whole marina in that third shot. It is really very quiet there now, and the fishing boat was easing on out leaving barely a ripple in its wake. It just felt like a perfect afternoon in October, with nothing to think about for an hour or two except where the fish might be and what they might like to strike. Lots of ways to fish. I had a couple more to show you, but the pictures were really subpar even for me. Y’know what’s funny, though – if memory serves, my cute little self caught that cute little perch in the Detroit River somewhere over on the east side with traffic whizzing by a block or so away. I take my encounters with nature where I find them.
flandrumhill
October 7, 2012
Uh oh! I don’t fish. Do I still exist? I do try to eat fish and chips at every opportunity. Maybe that might qualify too.
I might take up fishing if it didn’t involve mosquitoes. Is that possible?
Gerry
October 7, 2012
I am certain you exist. For one thing, Sybil says so. I have never managed to do much of anything outdoors without running afoul of mosquitoes, at least not in spring or summer. One of the things I like about autumn is that most of the mosquitoes are dead – or perhaps catching a flight to Florida, who knows. Anyway, I recommend that you experiment with autumn fishing. And then there’s always ice fishing . . .
flandrumhill
October 7, 2012
P.S. That pic of you as a small fry sure is cute.
Gerry
October 7, 2012
Aw, thank you.
Louan Lechler
October 7, 2012
I was never successful with the bent pin hook, but it may have been because we were fishing in the creek that wound through the fields. There couldn’t have been very many fish, big enough to actually catch. Oh well, I tried.
Gerry
October 7, 2012
We caught minnows with nets, but then we didn’t know what to do with them, so my mother made us stop. Norton Bretz told a very funny story about one of the family sprites who came running into her mother’s lakefront house. “Mama look what I caught!” She had a great big salmon that she’d cornered among the rocks during spawning season, clutching it to her with both arms. The fish was exhausted. Its captor was Really Excited.
Martha
October 7, 2012
An adorable childhood picture. I bet you can remember the feeling of being there.
Yes, let’s not talk about fuel bills. Let’s just wander along that stream or this river as long as we can.
Gerry
October 7, 2012
I can. We will not discuss the fuel bills. They scare me.
Dawn
October 7, 2012
Oh Gerry, you’re making me giggle. We lived on a lake growing up and fished (with fishing line and a real hook, but no fishing pole)..off our dock. We used canned corn for bate and caught sunfish mostly. We didn’t like to touch them, so used Mom’s potholders to take them off the hook. Once my brother accidentally caught a bass. He ran to the neighbor lady who took the fish off the hook and had it for supper.
As an adult I went catfish fishing with my husband and his best friend. I hoped I didn’t catch anything, and I didn’t. I wanted to dump their bucket of fish back into the pond…to set them free. I don’t think I was born a fisherwoman. No indeed.
Gerry
October 8, 2012
I used to catch a lot of panfish too. My mother was happy to cook them – except for a bullhead that one of us somehow managed to land. She swore the darned thing was still moving in the frying pan.
Scott Thomas Photography
October 9, 2012
Ah, I love to fish. It’s a process which is repetitive and allows the mind to wander until a strike happens. You are so right about where fish live, it is always beautiful.
Gerry
October 9, 2012
I find that my mind wanders no matter what I’m . . . wait, wait, what was I saying? Oh, right. Might as well fish, eh?