Ouch. That’s got to be the eighth fly I’ve swatted off my skin in the past two hours. I don’t exactly appreciate the cloud of gnats around me either, but the cool breeze paired with the soft moonlight makes up for it. My friends walked back to the house thirty minutes ago, but there’s no place I’d rather be right now than this rickety wooden dock with my line casted.
Fishing is an activity I didn’t appreciate much as a child. My parents or grandparents used to take me to a shallow pond on the golf course at the country club they belonged to. They’d accidentally pick days that it was raining heavily to go, and the pickings were pretty slim in those waters. Though it wasn’t my favorite activity, the occasional sunnies and blue gills I caught made my day. A sense of accomplishment came with reeling in a fish, even if it was tiny and my parents did ninety percent of the work for me. Sometimes, my extended family would host gatherings at my aunt and uncle’s lakehouse, and I’d dunk a worm by myself after my social battery ran out. Even then, it was mainly out of boredom that I’d fish.
I think there were a couple reasons I wasn’t a huge fan of fishing growing up. The first and most obvious is that I wasn’t big on the outdoors altogether. Few things that weren’t video games or Legos could hold my attention in my free time. The less obvious of the two reasons was that I misunderstood the sport.
Well, technically I understood the sport. You swing your rod to cast your line with a worm at the end and hope that after a while a fish bites so you can real it in. What I didn’t get was that almost all of the appeal of fishing is the environment and the anticipation, not necessarily the actual catching of fish. In my youth, that was a difficult concept to wrap my head around. Why would I stand around waiting for something to happen that very well may not happen at all? As a young adult, I take great pleasure in soaking up the vibes of fishing. Whether I went out in the morning, in the afternoon, or at night, I love immersing myself in the weather. Sure, we’re exposed to the weather constantly, but there’s no better way of enjoying it than just standing out in it for hours on end. To me, perfect fishing weather was a cloudless blue sky and the slightest breeze. To watch the water ripple and wonder whether it’s a fish or just the wind mesmerized me.
Though nature is a large part of why I love fishing now, the people are what really make it for me. Truth be told, it was my friends who helped me to fall in love with the sport. It was a great activity for a summer night spent at the lakehouse we frequented. I remember catching the biggest fish of the season the very first day we went out last summer. I’m not at all talented as a fisher, but luck must’ve been on my side that afternoon. The next step now that I’ve come around to enjoying fishing is to involve my parents and grandparents more. After all, they were who tried to fish with me before anybody else did.