It was the best cast ever but that damn tree was in the way. We tell ourselves we can squeeze that 7 inch worm on a ¾ ounce shakey head jig into a hole between the branches that the sunlight can’t even leak through. That would be the perfect spot. That’s where all the fish are. But, you know what they say – fish don’t live in trees.
After the line wraps securely around the first tiny twig it hits, the jig then searches out the fattest branch it can find and buries its hook deeply into it. At this point we survey the mess from a distance and decide in which direction we are going to frantically pull on the line. A yank to the left…no. A jerk to the right…no. Hmm I probably have too much slack out. So we reel in a little and try it again, all the while our fishing buddies laugh and hurl their untangled lines into tight little targets amongst the brush and cattails.
It must be the stubbornness of a fisherman that leads us to continue pulling on the line even when we can visibly see the hook digging deeper and deeper into the flesh of the tree. Eventually, we always let out an aggravated and exhausted *huff*, turn to our fishing buddies and utter the phrase that we’ve been dreading to say, “Hey, could you turn the boat around? I think I might be snagged.”
No comments:
Post a Comment