I actually made plans to go fishing today. It felt good. I saw a few cicadas recently and decided to whip up a few bugs in hopes of finding some bass. After a morning of strawberry picking with the wife and kids, I hit the road in search of some nature and a few hours of forgetting about all the insanity in the world.
Jack hasn’t really left his house since March except for a handful of times. He’s high risk for Covid and has to be careful due to his age. I was surprised he agreed to go with me and I was glad to have a fishing buddy for the day. We masked up and kept the windows down for the half a mile drive from his house to the spot. We then geared up, cracked a few beers, and hiked off to find some fish.
I won’t share the spot because it’s special to me. It’s one of the places where I learned to fish. The gorgeous bass with the extra black markings on their sides are still there, the offspring of the beasts I caught and released as a kid. The spot is well preserved, and the only trace of another human was a small group we saw on horseback across the field.
The cicada patterns worked. We brought some fish to hand, but nothing to brag about. It was just good to not feel like we were in the middle of a pandemic for a few hours. Happy Sunday.
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