Fish Nebraska
THe soft and cool air of a summer dawn awakens me
and slips through my fingers as my arm dangles from the
window of the truck. The last notes of an insect chorus
fade into the receeding darkness. Pink and orange rays
are brushed into the sky and across the water. The water
reflects them back, into the air, into my eyes.
An energy fueled by true excitement now makes me hurredly
pull the line through the eyelits and cinch the knots on the
hooks. I can hear the glassy surface being broken behind me.
Soon enough, the bait is falling towards the depths. The depths
are much alive, boiling in a give and take circle, shifting in
chain reactions. The offering descends and a predator emerges
from the tangles with an instictual subtleness. As the fish draws
closer she suddenly flicks her tail and has consumed her
prey in one quick movement.
I set the hook and the battle begins. For a few seconds the fish
strips the line from the reel. Then there is a "snap" that
seems somehow to bring the rushing blood inside me to a near stop
along with my heart. I stand there alone in the morning that is
now warming up quite well. Trickles of perspiration cover my forehead.
The smell of fishy waters and cold coffee permeate the
air now. I take a swig of the old morrocan bean juice and
watch the whooping cranes ride the thermals.
For me, there is not much better out there than mornings
like this. Or evenings along a lake or river with poles
cast out for giant catfish of the night. The only light from
stars, fireflies and cigar cherries. Or as a kid, weaving through
the bluestem to the edge of a farm pond. A bucket full of night-
crawlers washed out from the rains and an old zebco in hand.
Under a blue Nebraska sky full of giant white clouds, we'd pull
bullheads behind bobbers until we were hungry for dinner.
Or how about watching a big northern or largemouth fight deep
in the clear water below the boat in a western sand pit. Or cooking
fresh caught trout around a campfire at Grove lake. Or sitting with
the old man along the Missouri river and hearing the legendary tales
of the mighty Mo. Or hooking you're first big wiper or walleye in
a salt valley reservoir. These are just some of the fishing
oppurtunities in our state.
In life, you must preserve and protect what you have instead of
worrying about what you don't have. We do a have a chance to
connect to this land and ourselves by being outside and basking
in the natural beauty of the great plains states. The luxuries of
our modern world are belittled by the peace and simplicity of
the outdoors. So...take the time, and a child, to the lake and be a
part of what was always there, nature, and make sure it will always
be there. -kevin
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