Ice On My Guides

Winter has undoubtedly arrived in all the lower 48 states. Even in Florida, known for its sunshine and stubbornness, the weather has turned cold. One of my neighbors yelled through his hurricane glass window, exclaiming, “You’re crazy! I’m not going out there!” Walking my dogs during bad weather is a mission statement, and someone has to do it! So, I’ve been elected to brave the cold, dark mornings. I don my down parka, wool hat, and Gore-Tex gloves to face the freezing temperatures of the Florida winter. It’s definitely not for the faint of heart.

This brings me back to a time in my silviculture class (not civics) when ninety of us brave souls embarked on a snowshoeing adventure onto a small frozen pond. The ice began to tilt due to the unbalanced weight of our group. We were instructed not to go near the inlet or outlet (I bet you didn’t know ponds had such things) and instead, walk to a safe edge up a small hill to observe some trees growing in a bog. The tips of my ears froze that day, and they still ache now. 

Later that year, after the ice began to recede, I caught some beautiful brook trout. I constantly knocked the ice off my guides, knowing that if I waited for a warmer day, the thrill of standing in the cold and casting to areas of open water teeming with hungry trout would be lost.

In the northern country, the term “ice out” is used to describe the sudden urge to go fishing in the cold early spring days. People could be heard having hushed conversations about which pond was shedding its ice, as if it were a state secret. Knowledge was quietly shared in low voices, but soon the secret was out, and next thing you know, city folk showed up and ruined the party.

One part of the ice out is the spring turnover, a term used to describe the winds that cause the pond, which had been heavily stratified over the winter, to break up. This breaks up the layers, allowing oxygen to be spread evenly throughout the water column. This brings much joy to both the trout and the fishermen.

No Quit in This Old Dog

Little is known about truly important matters. Truth often disguises itself as opinion supported by limited facts. Facts are subjective and can vary from person to person. I’ve come to realize that only a few things truly matter. However, it’s important to remember that what may be important to me might not be your cup of tea. As I’ve been writing this blog for over a decade, I do so as an outlet for myself. If you find something valuable, even if it’s just a passing amusement, that’s fine by me. I have a small audience and don’t actively seek to reach a wider audience. At one point, early in its history, I did reach a few countries worldwide My goals were limited and I have exceeded them by a mile.

The year of fallen colleagues concluded in early December with the passing of a friend and fellow arborist. I last saw him at a meeting in Clearwater a couple of years ago. Although he was still energetic, he appeared older and seemed slower. He continued to live his best life, traveling the world, rowing his shell across Seneca Lake, and cultivating a large garden that yielded an abundant harvest. The circumstances surrounding his passing remain unknown to me, but I will miss seeing his posts from exotic locations or his meals made with his homegrown produce.

Recently, I read that our genetics determine our lifespan, implying that whatever we do will not extend it. However, I firmly reject this concept. After all, we are the captains of our own ships, and we chart our own courses. Therefore, never give up!