June 13, 2007

• Isabella Nights

   

  Perfect lighting for good photos doesn’t always happen.  
  But, June heat is oppressive so John and I opt for evenings to roam. The time of day is after 7:00 and it’s Friday night “fishfry”.  The catered menu is good.  It includes sandwiches with pickles and chips or complete dinners; steaks, burgers and fish all cooked fresh on the grill. 

  Weekends at Isabella are host to all night fishing and the lake has a good following.  Besides the fishing, entertainment might be live music or discussion and wildlife display.  Small tents pop up on the lake perimeter with campfires for light and warmth for the fisher.  I would really like to be a part of it.  Isabella’s visitors enjoy the outdoor life.  For us, it’s “where it’s at” and life’s real excitement is throwing a line into the water.
  

  

  Fishing Isabella at Night
  © RSBlain
  June 13, 2007 

  No noisy dogs barking, or video games
  Just peace and quiet and campfire flames
  Time thoughtfully spent by the water at night
  Throwing lures neatly baited to fish that might bite
  As I troll I swap stories, until very late
  While coffee stays hot on the campfire grate

  

  The water takes on a less than bright cast
  As the evening wears on, while fishing for Bass
  And a coolness floats cross the water to play
  As darkness creeps to, where there was partial shade
  The heat melts away, bare skin chills, at the change
  And the coffee perks fresh on a wood fired range

  

  The boats that burn hands from a days scorching heat
  Are cold in an evening with damp chilling seats
  But the gear’s loaded in; rods, reels, nets and bait
  And jacket, butt pillow, some snacks for the wait
  And some tricksy new worms that fluoresce, that I’ll try …
  While caffeine aromas ride winds that drift by

  

  I’ve caught one, the bugger feels huge on the line
  I can tell he’s a big one but the night by design
  Screens him with blackness so I play the line slack
  And I fish with gut instinct slowly reeling him back
  Into my net, as I dream of the ways
  Of preparing this fish I’ve been craving for days

  

  Hot coffee and biscuits and fresh fish, pan fried
  Are the smells that awake me on mornings outside
  While Sun shines and breezes drift off the lake
  As gifts only dreamt of by those who partake
  Of one of the oldest amusements of man
  “Fishing”, a part of His well mastered plan

  

  Fishing is great for clearing my mind
  Of mixtures of headaches brought on or assigned
  With my feet in the water, a line in my hand
  I’m a kid one time more, thinking “ain’t life just grand”
  While the cook fire’s burning and the coffee smells hot 
  And it steeps good and strong in an old blackened pot

  Sunday night played out, trashed, policed and packed
  The tackle and tents stowed, the grill’s filling slack
  The fish iced, live coals out, food bits fed to geese
  Who gathered to gobble the thrown away feast
  Now home and hot bath, and sweet smelling bed
  The workweek’s tomorrow, Friday’s fishings ahead 

   

  Best to all,
  Becca

   

   

  • 9:10 pm
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