beautiful, Beauty, Fishing, Georgian Bay, Memoir, Photography, Thoreau
Many men go fishing all their lives without knowing that it is not the fish that they are after. – Henry David Thoreau
My father loved to fish! At least once a year he ventured into the wilds of Quebec in search of rainbow trout. He always came home with his limit and many a tall tale about the fish that got away.
Dad first taught his two daughters and son to fish in Georgian Bay, Ontario. We learned the finer points of bait selection, casting, and how to remove the hook by holding the fish firmly in one hand and carefully extracting the instrument of death with the other. Often we released the fish back into the water and then worried about the creatures swimming around with holes in their mouths – the fish equivalent of a cleft lip.
Father bought fishing rods for his grandchildren as soon as they could walk. I was amazed to see my three daughters reach for minnows to bait the hook, reel in the catch, and unhook with such confidence and more ease than I ever had.