I’m getting a bit older, you know? I’m now in my eighth decade, still enjoying life on this beautiful planet. But the spark of wonder from my youth has faded, and the thrill of trying new things and collecting gear is also slipping away. Still, I yearn for adventure, like gliding through fresh snow in quiet woods, just me and the trees and my breath. The satisfying sound of my skis gliding along, pushing and sliding rhythmically, is a dream I cherish. Of course, those old skis are long gone, and my snowshoes are just decorations in a Vermont Airbnb.
Hiking up that hill—the one I climbed so many times—is still a challenge. My body has aged, and while my spirit is strong, I can’t muster the willpower anymore. My labored breath reminds me that I have a metal heart keeping my vital one open. My heart races, too fast or too slow, and I can feel the meds kicking in, telling me to slow down. I’m not going to die here, but the memory of that attack still lingers in my mind.
I dream of my home waters, and in my dreams, I’m drifting flies through familiar pools where I fished decades ago. I’m always on the lookout for that flash of a fish taking the bait. I pick out my favorite special fly from an old box of secrets, choosing the perfect one. It doesn’t matter, they all work. My back cast always snags that low branch, and in my excitement, I snap the special one. It’s not like I don’t have a dozen more. I silently mourn that bug and tie another, only to drop it in the river. I watch it swirl into an eddy, and guess what? A trout rises and eats it! Darn, darn, now I can’t even tie a knot. Casting to a rise and deciding it was too long, too left, too right, I pick up the line and make the same stupid cast again. Good thing it’s just a dream.
I wish I could tell everyone how much I appreciate them before I pass away. I want to see my grandchildren grow and be captivated by the natural world around them. Peace on earth, someday, maybe for just a day.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all!
No comments:
Post a Comment