March 24, 2024

The Young Lady And The Sea

We woke up early on Sunday with plans to watch the sunrise at Buckhorn Reservoir and fish. It was a frigid morning, so I encouraged my wife to bundle up while I pulled out my winter clothes and threw them on. My wife prepared a large thermos of hot coffee and I grabbed earthworms from the worm bins in the shed. We headed out at twilight.

When we arrived, the reservoir was quiet, with only two boats being backed into the water. The banks and docks were devoid of life, except for the seagulls flying about, squawking, sounding like small children. The temperature was in the thirties and the wind was blowing hard toward the south, making small ripples in the water that moved from the shore to the middle of the lake. Wind gusts blew in every direction, creating fleeting patterns in the water.

Despite the cold, we found a comfortable spot on a worn wooden dock and set up shop. Today was my wife’s first day to fish. Exciting. I baited her hook with an earthworm, thanking it for its service, and she cast the line into the water like a pro. In a flash, she was fishing, reporting small bites on her line. I prepped my line, tying on a new leader with a swivel, small hook, and crimped weights. After, I threw my line into the water and joined in on the chilly fun. My wife passed me a small hand warmer that I placed in the pocket of my hoodie, and while one hand held my fishing rod, the other tried to stay warm in the heated pocket.

When the sun peered over the eastern tree line, the sky went bright. I felt warmer with the sun’s light shining on my face, directly from above, and reflecting off the water from below. My wife was casting perfectly, and I was proud of her. I had seen many people fish in the area, and she was a natural. I pulled out a tiny bass and threw it back into the water. When a second fish landed on my line, I handed the rod to my wife so she could learn what it felt like when a fish was hooked. She reluctantly reeled it in, but was having none of it. She wanted to catch her own fish, her words, not mine.

I was watching the tip of my wife’s fishing rod. It was twitching from a fish nibbling on the end of her line. She was focused and living in the moment. Then suddenly the rod bent toward the water while my wife screamed out in excitement. She had hooked a fish. She reeled in a small bluegill, which was the first I had seen this spring. In another month, that fish would be perfect catfish bait. It was a good catch. I grabbed my phone and shot a couple of pictures. We were both excited. Today, she caught her first fish, and by the looks of her face, she too was hooked.

While the reservoir was empty, it was a busy place. A large flock of seagulls flew back and forth, some hunting over the water while others cheered or jeered from the pier. A pair of cormorants flew by, and one stopped, landing on a pole marker that stood fifty yards off the pier. An osprey was in the area hunting and a large blue heron passed overhead. Traffic control definitely had their hands full. I sipped hot coffee as I imagined the radio traffic in my head.

I had moved down the pier, trying to catch more fish, when I received the two-minute warning. My wife alerted me, calling out, “Babe, I’m getting hungry”. I started my stopwatch, knowing that we had little time before she self-destructed. At least that’s the way she used to be. When she got hungry, she powered down pretty quickly. These days, her rapid onset of hunger was more of something I kidded her about. I cast my line one last time, and after I reeled it in, we packed up and made the lengthy five-minute trip home. 

On the way, my wife was shocked to learn we had fished for two hours. The time felt much shorter. I looked at her and asked, “See?”. Now she understood why I got lost while fishing, staying out for hours at a time. She told me she enjoyed the time on the water, that she could relax, and how it was another Zen place for her. Then, she told me we needed to buy a boat. The girl had plans.

We came home, mostly warm, except for my wife’s frozen toes, and drank a smoothie made from frozen fruit and milk. I made another cup of coffee and got busy writing while my wife studied in her office. After a few hours, we both ended up in the forest, working to clear a new area from dead trees, vines, and other debris. It was hard work. After a couple of hours, we had cleared much of the area, creating two large piles of dead branches. My wife’s ability to do physical labor always impressed me. By the time we finished, the morning smoothies had disappeared from our stomachs and we felt famished and weak. My wife prepared an amazing lunch, and we took our plates to the deck to feast outdoors. It was a gorgeous day.

After lunch, I ran my wife to the Piggly Wiggly to purchase a large container of oats. She wanted to bake cookies, and I requested oatmeal cookies with chocolate chips. Because we were decent human beings, we both agreed that raisins had no business in an oatmeal cookie. While I fell asleep on the dining room floor with Kilo, my wife performed her witchery in the kitchen. When I woke up, she had fresh oatmeal cookies with dark chocolate chips, oatmeal and coconut cookies, and regular chocolate chip cookies cooling on a tray. I wondered if I could get any more spoiled and accepted the challenge to try.

In the early evening, we both worked on our computers while sitting outside on the deck under the sun. It was sunny enough to keep from getting cold, and cool enough to keep from feeling hot. What was this strange weather? I wasn’t in Texas anymore. After a good study session, my wife went inside to take a bath and I headed out into the woods, taking photos, and sitting in the cleared area. We had plans to add flowers and a bench, and maybe some other natural decorations. The evening light was already gone from the pine grove as the sun headed toward the horizon. I walked back to the house and jumped into the shower.

For dinner, we went to Cracker Barrel and celebrated my wife’s first fish. We had a sumptuous dinner and drove home, ready for bed. It was a busy day, and although it was only 8:30 PM, we were both ready for sleep. When we arrived home, we saw six deer feeding near the house. We watched them from the car for a few minutes and then headed inside for the night. Last week, my wife and I had a strenuous work week. This weekend, we decompressed, and were ready to start anew. But first, sleep. 

In bed, I read a few journal entries for my wife. She listened and laughed as she inched closer, snuggling by my side. After two entries, she was ready for bed and fell fast asleep. I wasn’t wasn’t far behind.