Suit

 “Booth please” 

We are in a local restaurant getting ready to have some Chinese food. 

One of my favorite foods!

As we are seated in the booth, as usual, I always pick the side that puts my back to a wall and gives me a better view of the room. 

We place our order and talk while waiting for the food. 

 As we talk, I notice the greeter escorting a very old man across the room to a booth on the opposite side of the room. 

I can see them, Lisa cannot.

My guess is he is in his early to mid-90’s and very frail.

I found it strange and started watching because the old man was dressed in a way that seemed very out of place. 

He had a light blue suit on, a baby blue in color.  

Who wears a suit to Chinese? 

Clearly the suit was old. The style looked like something from the 70’s or maybe even earlier.

As he moved along the floor, he could barely lift his feet and simply slid them along in a slow shuffle.

 I began to notice more details in the suit as I watched him make his way across the room. 

The pants were too long and bunched up as they hit the floor. 

The back of the cuff was worn and fringed from many years of rubbing on the floor. 

The jacket seemed too long for his now small and fragile frame.

His shoes were of the same time period and looked like they had not been polished in a long time.

As he shuffled across the room, he could not keep up with the greeter who waited at the booth for him to arrive.

 He sat down and quickly a waitress placed a set of silverware and one of those paper placemats in front of him as they exchanged small talk. 

I saw him raise his hand and hold up two fingers. Again, it appeared strange as if giving her a peace sign, but the waitress took out her pad and wrote down his order immediately and left.

 Clearly, he knew what he wanted as he never looked at a menu.

I didn’t mention anything to Lisa since she couldn’t see him anyway, but I kept my focus on him as we talked and ate our meal.

While he waited for his meal, he took apart the silverware rolled up in the napkin and place each one exactly where it needed to be on the sides of the paper mat.  

He reached over and took out some of the packets of pepper and salt from the cube along the wall and stacked them beside the paper mat as well. 

All the while he never looked around the room. He seemed to only look straight ahead at the empty bench on the other side of his table. 

Once he had his setting prepared like he liked it, he sat with his arms on the table looking straight ahead awaiting his meal.

I noticed his suit was not only old but stained and very wrinkled. 

 He had one sleeve that was buttoned as it should be, but the other sleeve was open. 

My guess is it was missing a button or hands ravaged by age could not get it buttoned.

 Either way it was open showing his white shirt underneath 

It wasn’t long before the waitress brought him his meal. 

After she walked away, I saw the reason for the peace sign or the two fingers. There were two glasses of water sitting in front of the old man. 

He repositioned his plate in front of him. Moved his water glass to his right side and then slid the second glass into position across the table from him as though giving it to someone who wasn’t there.

I watched the old man as he ate. 

His gaze never leaving the empty booth in front of him.

His facial expressions would change from blank stares, to smiles and sometimes sadness as he ate. 

It was as though he was carrying on a conversation without speaking a word or simply remembering one from days gone by.

I never saw him say a word but clearly, he was sharing this meal with someone.

Lisa and I finished our meal and we left before the old man finished his.

 I am not sure how this story ends. 

Was he celebrating an anniversary with a lost love?

Keeping up a tradition only he is left to partake in?

I guess I will never know for sure, but I know one thing, this man got dressed up to the best of his ability. 

Made his way to a restaurant and ordered two drinks.

 One he never touched after he slid it across the table to whoever he was sharing this time with.

What I know is, he allowed memories to take him away to a time and place that I can only assume was better than the present.

Lisa never knew I watched this; she will hear this story just like the rest of you.

I am not sure why I felt compelled to write about it. 

It was almost a year ago this took place. 

I never forgot about the old man in the suit.

This story has been rattling around in my head just waiting to be told. 

Why?  I'm not sure.

Of what value is it? 

Entertaining? Probably not. 

Educational? Probably not.

So why has it hung with me waiting to be told?

That , I do not know, but it did.

How tall is your wall?

 

I have written many times about the power of music and its importance to me.   Music has been a major part of my life since I was able to pick my own stations on the radio and I got my first turn table.

I love all kinds of music from hard rock to love ballads, to country oldies and everything in between.

Yes, I love music and the power it has over our emotions and our thoughts.

Of course, I have my favorites . 

Recently I became reacquainted with my all-time favorite album.  I purchased the album when it first came out in 1979. 

I wore out two sets listening to it over and over again in the basement of my childhood home as I wore a set of clunky headphones. 

Hours and hours were spent with the turntable spinning and the needle capturing the sound only vinyl can produce. 

 Than, I moved to Cassettes in my car and finally CD’s.

Now I have the entire thing downloaded on my phone and have it available anytime I want it.

 I would say I listen to the full 80 minutes of this album at least once a week since It came back into my radar

To me it is clearly the best collection of music ever written. From the first song through all 4 sides, till the final song, it’s a true work of art and a musical achievement that has never been duplicated since.

 I doubt it ever will be.

I am talking about Pink Floyds album “The Wall”.  

I have listened to this album literally thousands of times since it was released in Nov of 1979. I know every word, every note and when one song finishes I know what is coming next.

Its called a “Rock Opera” because the entire album tells a story. Each song leads to the next. Each song a chapter in the life of a fictional character “Pink”. 

Pink is a jaded rock star who creates a fictional wall around himself as he moves deeper into Isolation from society and everyone around him. 

It’s the brainchild of Roger Waters, lead vocalist and creative genesis for Pink Floyd at the time. 

Waters came up with the  idea when he was so burned out at touring, that he fantasized about having a wall between the band and the audience, so he didn’t have to see or interact with them while they played.

The concept led to Waters taking actual traumatic events from his childhood and life and combined them with the events of fellow band member Syd Barret. Syd suffered from Schizophrenia and ultimately had to leave the band .  

Waters created the storyline that is  laid out within the songs of the album.  

The story line takes Pink from childhood to insanity.

The concept is a simple one and one that I believe is true.

 As we all go through life bad things happen to us.  Parents die young, we get abandoned, we feel  alone when there should be someone there to help . We get jilted by lovers, betrayed by friends and though bad choices we make, we do many things we look back on and regret. Guilt builds into our life.

Each event we go through as our lives march forward, are either cast aside and forgotten, or they are turned into bricks and put in place to help build a wall that protects us from the world. 

I believe we all have a self-preservation mechanism that attempts to shield us from the bad things that happened and tries to ensure they don’t happen again. 

The wall symbolizes the removal of the vulnerability we all have when dealing with others. Remove the vulnerability, remove the potential to get hurt again. 

Build up the wall !

I think we all have a wall around us that we have built over time. 

Some walls are every tall and few people ever get in. They have built high walls to protect themselves from things in their past and ensure they do  not happen again.

Some walls are short as some can cope with what life has thrown at them and the need for a wall is minimal.

To some degree I think our wall keeps people from seeing the real us . At least not 100%

We let people see what we want them to see, the wall helps protect what we wish others not see.

I believe everyone has a wall. How tall? How short? Who we let in? Who we keep out? 

How and why, it protects us from pain, embarrassment or rejection depends on how we use the wall.

Pinks wall ultimately drove him insane as the total isolation he created allowed his mind to finally take over with the depravity that we are all capable of, yet keep at bay. 

How big is your wall? Who do you let in and who do you keep out? 

 What pain, rejection or embarrassment is your wall hoping to protect you from?

The great thing about walls is they can be built tall and strong to ensure they do their job of protecting us.

They can also be taken down.  

The self-preservation mechanism that unconsciously begins the wall building process in us all at a young age ,can be overridden and brick by brick you can take down the wall. 

For years the wall that surrounded me was tall and few entered.  I had stacked a lifetime of bricks. 

The walls is shorter now but it’s still there.

All I can do is work at removing one brick at a time, slowly taking down the wall and allowing more people inside .

How tall is your wall? 

Are you building? 

Or, I hope,   

you are taking down? 

Kind

 It’s no secret that none of us are getting out of this life alive.

 No, at some point in the future we are all going to take our last breath and leave the rest behind.

When we are gone, all we will leave for those remaining are memories. 

Memories of who we were, what we accomplished in this life and what was important to us as we used up our time on this rock. 

Some of us will be remembered fondly, others not so much.   

It always seems when we talk about someone who has passed on, we always seem to generalize.

“Boy that Tom, he was a character”

“Remember Al, he was always joking around “

“Old Bob, what a grouch he was “

“Remember Sally was so crafty, she could make just about anything for her house”

I think you get the point. When someone we know passes on, we remember them for the character trait or traits that defined their life. 

 As I said before some good and some not so good.

I guess the older one gets the more they think about stuff like that. 

What will I be remembered for? What will people say about me after I’m gone?

Today is Lisa’s Birthday and as I thought about what I might write in wishing her a happy Birthday I wanted to do something a bit different. 

Over the years I have created all types of Birthday wishes and stories celebrating her day.

I started thinking about who she was, what made her tick and what was important to her.  

I have known her for over 40 years. That’s a long time to know someone so I guess it qualifies me to be able to judge her life and put labels on her accomplishments.

Although I hate the thought of it, and it takes my breath away to even write it, I know some day Lisa will pass on.  

Selfishly I hope I pass first so I don’t have to try to exist without her, but either way, someday She will take her last breath as we all will. 

When she is gone what will people say about her? What was important to her? What did she spend a lifetime working on? 

I think I know.

“Lisa sure loved her family; it was the most important thing to her”

“Lisa was talented with those crafts and painting that’s for sure”

“Lisa sure was a great friend”

There are so many things that can be said about how Lisa has lived her life and how she has treated the world and everyone in it.  

There is one word though, one word that is at the core of everything Lisa does. 

One word that describes the way she has approached every day of her life.

One word that describes how she has treated everyone she meets and interacts with.

That word is………. 

Kindness

Lisa is one of the most kind and caring people I know. She treats everyone with kindness and compassion even when they don’t deserve it.  ESPECIALLY when they don’t deserve it!! 

She has no enemies although many have pushed her, she refuses to let anything but kindness rule her life.

She is truly a special person in a world racked by emotions, division, and strife.

She has spent a lifetime perfecting the art of being a kind and caring person and she has mastered it!

I know some of you may think it’s a little strange to be talking about your wife as though she had passed away when she hasn’t yet, and I guess you would be right.

 I can’t explain the thoughts that seed themselves in this brain of mine, all I can do is write about them when they beg to be let out.

Here is how I look at it. 

How special of a person does it take to build your legacy early? To lock down the things people will say about you for generation to come before you are even gone! 

How special to have cemented that legacy long before the dash on your headstone has a second date. 

Yes, it does take a special person to be so well known for one simple trait.  

Lisa is that special person!

She is above all else……

Kind 

Happy Birthday my love!

May your kindness shine on for many more years to come!

Time

 

The wind is playing havoc with the smoke coming off the fire pit. No matter where I set my chair it seems to follow me almost instantly. 

I settle into a new spot, and I slowly close my eyes as they are burning from the smoke,  as I listen I am instantly 40 years in the past.

I hear the crackling of the fire being drowned out by familiar voices from days gone by. 

 There’s Dennis he’s talking with Paula about playing golf. 

That’s Dave, he’s joking with Denise and Rhonda, I can’t make out what he’s saying but as usual if Dave’s talking people are laughing.  

To my left Mary and Molly are talking quietly. 

I can’t hear Alison but that’s not surprising her quiet and gentle demeaner hasn’t changed a bit in 40 years.

As I slowly open my eyes time fast forwards to the present and the reality of its passing can be seen.

I am at a small impromptu gathering of classmates pulled together at the last minute. Our mission is to visit around a firepit with Dennis, who is home for a quick visit from the west coast.

The evening started with hugs all around as we all slowly slipped back in time.

 There were stories told, memories questioned and laughter,  yes lots and lots of laughter.

Now even though it was a small group, and we live in the same town, there were several at the fire who I had not spoken with in 39 years. 

No, since the day we walked away with our gowns on and cap in hand, our paths simply never crossed.

The rest I have seen in passing but never much more than a casual  “Hello , how are you?” and we would be off again buried in our separate lives.

And yet, as though time had never passed,  our ability to reconnect and slip back into each other’s lives, if only for an evening,  seemed effortless. 

I know this will sound strange and I am not sure I can explain it, but the passing of time seemed to almost bring us closer together.

 I had meaningful conversations with classmates I rarely spoke with all those years ago. 

Was it maturity on our part at this point in life or simply a change in priorities and attitudes? 

I don’t know but to me it seemed easier somehow than it did all those years ago.

As the evening wore on memories reconnected us as we sat around a the smokey fire that played the ringmaster to it all.

 What seemed apparent to me was that time and our current place in it, seems to have closed  the gap that existed between us so many years ago, as caring and a genuine appreciation for each other filled the void. 

 I’m not sure that makes any sense and I’m sure it’s my inability to explain it that’s lacking.

All I know is for about three hours last night I was back in 1982 and I truly enjoyed the visit.

Goodbye Mary

 

Her name is Mary Louise Chaisson, she was born in 1958 in Rumford Maine. The Daughter of David and Philena Chaisson. By the time Mary was 2 years old David and Philena received the news no parents wish to hear. Mary was different, she would not be like other kids. In a day when words were not as closely guarded as they are today, David and Philena heard the news that Mary was retarded. , That’s a word we don’t use anymore today but back in that day, it was standard practice. Mary won’t be like other kids, and she probably wouldn’t live past her teens was the message. If she did manage to live past her teens her life would mean little and the quality of life she could expect was bleak at best. She will never have a family, never own a home, never have a job, never graduate from collage, fall in love or create a legacy for future generations. No in those days, an outlook like the one Mary received, lacked all hope of a life worth living. You see Mary simply wasn’t like everyone else and she never would be. I met Mary when I was a teen, and I started dating her cousin, Lisa. Yes, Mary is Lisa’s first cousin and I met her soon after Lisa and I started dating in the late 1970’s. By that time Mary had already beaten the odds and was in her early 20’s. Yes, part of her early diagnosis was correct . Mary seemed to me, to be stuck at about the age of 4 or 5 . She wore braces on her legs ,why I am not sure, but I know she had physical issues as well as the intellectual ones. Despite her challenges she was the first person with her level of disability to successfully graduate from High school in her hometown of Cambridge Massachusetts . The occasion was so celebrated that Mary was presented her diploma by the Mayor of Cambridge. So why am I telling you about Mary? Sadly, this past weekend I attended her funeral. She passed away at the age of 63 . A far cry from the prediction made decades before. I want to tell you about the Mary I knew . I want to give you “MY” diagnosis of Mary . In the view of the world, Mary was a broken soul destined to a life where the simple achievements made by you and I would be impossible for Mary. I would have to agree with some of that but let me introduce you to the Mary I knew for 40 years. Mary was a pure and gentle human being. Mary greeted everyone with a smile. She loved people and never met anyone who she wouldn’t try to befriend. There is no doubt that growing up Mary was picked on and abused as a child in the 60’s, by both kids and adults alike. Yet Mary never held a grudge or let it affect her attitude or outlook on life. She was the first to forgive and accepted everyone for who they were. She was always smiling and genuinely seemed to be happy every time I saw her . I would be greeted with a hug and an "I love you" every time we met. She had no self-pity for her situation. I’m not sure she even understood it all. She was just happy no matter what she was doing. She used the phrase “ I Love you” often and truly meant it. I remember the first time she said it to me, I was somewhat taken aback at the statement and yet I knew she meant it. It was simply a pure, unguarded expression of how she felt. Nothing more , nothing less. She wasn’t looking for “I love you” in return, nor was she using it in any way other than to express her genuine caring for those around her. She loved to travel and enjoyed going anywhere she could. She did have a job and was very good at what she did and loved by all who worked with her. Mary saw life through a lens that focused on the best in everything and everyone. It wasn’t forced or something she worked on . It was just who she was. She had no jealousy, anger, greed, or ego. I don’t know if she couldn’t understand those traits or if somehow, she choose not to embrace them but either way she lacked most of the qualities you and I work so hard to hide. Even when her time was short and her mother tried to explain the inevitable to Mary. Mary was sick and wasn’t going to get any better. Philena asked “Mary do you understand what I am saying” Mary Smiled and said “yes, I’ll be seeing Daddy and my big sister soon” was her response. Both had passed way years ago and Mary was looking forward to the reunion. She was simply a sweet soul who was stuck in a toddler’s mind. Was Mary different? Yes , she was . In ways measured by IQ scores, worldly accomplishments and most of the things today’s world uses to gauge success. Mary simply didn’t measure up. Although challenged with a mind that couldn’t keep up and a body that often failed, its true Mary was not like everyone else. BUT clearly looking back on her life much of that difference , much of what made Mary special and not like the rest of us, is as much because of our shortcomings , our weaknesses, and our level of broken, not hers. Mary exemplified what the rest of us should strive to accomplish. Mary exhibited daily all the traits we should strive to master. She was kind, caring and happy all the time. She saw the good in everyone and everything. She accepted challenges and heartache with a level of grace and acceptance that most of us can only wish to achieve. She embraced the life she was dealt with an acceptance for what it was and did it with a smile. So clearly if you measure Mary’s life by the gauge the world sets before us, Mary’s score would be very low. But take that same measurement with the gauge that measures what it means to be a truly decent, loving and kind human being and Mary’s scores are off the charts. So, was Mary different? yes, was she special ? She sure was ! We should all try to be more like Mary. We should all try to fix our broken and maybe we can be just half the human being Mary was for 63 years ! Goodbye Mary we will miss that shy smile!

Is it worth it?

 

Is it worth it ?

As I reach through the darkness, I can’t see my phone, but I know where I put it last night and I have no problem retrieving it. 

I click the button on the side to wake it up and I am met with a clock that reads 3:05 am.

As I am looking at my phone, the gas light in the kitchen pops on and a low glow of light starts to break the darkness of our little camp. 

John is lighting the gas stove to get the coffee going.  Yes, the old percolator coffee pot that always leaves a heavy dose of coffee grounds at the bottom of your cup . 

Its not long before the tell-tale burp sound signals the coffee is brewing.

Aaah coffee!  A key element for two old guys who often forget how old they really are.

Today’s destination is a good way away and will require about a 30-minute Jeep ride to get there. 

We quickly eat our breakfast and drink our coffee as the anticipation of the day pulls strongly at us.

The gear was loaded into the jeep the night before so there is no real packing to be done for the day except grabbing a few waters and some snacks.

As the jeep bumps down the dirt road, we are heading deeper into a territory we have never fished before. 

We found the pond the day before during a scouting trip ( code word for we were just riding around) and with a Fly Fishing Only regulation we figured it was worth the effort to check it out .

We arrive at the boulders that signal the end of the jeep ride.

From here on its on foot.

The hike in is about a half mile and not too difficult so we quickly grab all our gear and start our hike.

By now the horizon Is getting light as dawn signals the start of another day.

We get to the pond and immediately start preparing our “ghost Canoe” .

A ghost canoe is a Maine tradition where a canoe is left unchained at a pond for others to use that have made the trek.

It’s a wonderful tradition and so many fishermen utilize the generosity of those who drag a canoe all the way in and then leave it unlocked for others to use.

 

Once the gear is all in the canoe  we tie on our flies by the light of  a flashlight.

 Soon we quietly push off from shore to explore a pond neither of us has ever fished before as daylight breaks.

What will the day bring?

Will we have success?

Will getting up early and riding through the darkness be worth the effort and lost sleep?

Will the effort needed to hike our gear into the pond be worth the walk?

Could it be worth all this effort?

Will we have success?     

We already have !  

Tell me what more  one could  wish for?

A remote trout pond deep in the Maine woods.

Two lifelong friends exploring a new location and sharing the love of fly fishing.

The sun coming up to start a new day.

So I ask you, what more could one wish for ?

Nothing!

 Unless the wish was to be young again and start this life's journey anew!

The little room.

 

If you have been there, you will understand  what I am about to try to explain.

I can’t tell you how many times I have been there, and I would not even dare guess.

I am sure I was only days old when I made my first trip.

It’s a place that captivates you from the first time you arrive and if you are lucky enough to watch a day come to an end there,  the allure becomes even stronger to return.

There is nothing special about the location.  It’s a small room on the front of a farmhouse, a farmhouse that has stood tall for over 160 years.

I am not sure how long the small room has been around but suffice to say, it has seen its share of sunsets.

What makes this place so special is hard to explain! There is nothing fancy about the room.  Its décor is simple, and some might even say dated, although it has had a facelift in recent years.

Its small, has no heat and serves only one purpose.

It has comfy chairs,  an old couch , a couple small end tables and a spot for a tv that can be used in the summer.

It has windows all around giving a hint to the mission of this little room.

Its not big enough to play games or run around.

 Its main purpose is to draw you from wherever you are. To draw you so you can sit.

Simply sit.

Its bones are tired, and it sags a little here and shifts a little there. 

Yearly effort must be given to keep it in its place, it’s an effort that ensures our ability to enjoy it as so many have done before us.

To look from the outside in, one would scoff at any claim of being special or worthy of praise.

No, the allure is clearly not what is held within the walls that creates the precious value for those of us who hold it dear.

 No, it’s not within that lure you,  but its within that matters most.

I can’t imagine how many hundreds of people have spent time sitting in this small space .  

As near as I can count 8 generations of Smiths have spent time there, how many got the chance to enjoy the little room off the front I can’t be sure.

So many conversations echo the walls of this little room and so much silence as well as many just sit and enjoy the wonder this little room has to offer.

I often feel that if I sit quietly long enough, I could hear the fait echoes of Gram and Gramp as they sat and enjoyed  so many evenings just sitting in this little room.

I introduced my children to this room, and they spent many evenings on Gramps knee having no idea of what they were a part of.  Or how special the moment was as they sat in this small room with their great grandfather watching another day end. A place I had been so many years before.

 I am trilled to be able to introduce my grandchildren to this room as well.  Although Gramp is gone the allure remains.

 My grandchildren find my father sitting in the chair of honor in this little room looking out as the day passes by. The tradition continues.

Someday maybe my great grandchildren will be able to share the wonder this little room has to offer.

 

This simple room, a room that captures your heart after the first visit, is a room you will always want to return to once you have been there.

If you have ever been to the “Farm”  by now you know exactly what I am talking about.

Yes, this little room where generations have shared sunsets and watched the years go by is simply called,  in my family…….

The porch.

 

I truly hope you have a porch!

Last Night.

 

It’s the last night of my solo trip .

 It’s been a great time .

The weather has been almost perfect .

A little breezy during the day but mornings and evenings it has calmed down for the fishing and that is all that I can ask for.

I will be sad to leave tomorrow .

There is still so much to do in this new area.

I will get up a little after 4 like I have all week and will be on the water by 4:30 for one last dance with the lake and the fish .

I do miss Lisa that’s for sure . 

We are not apart much anymore .

There was a time when we were apart a lot for work and we got used to it . 

One year I spent 187 nights away traveling for work !

Not anymore.

With no cell service here I can get out one text a day.

When I drive down this one road there is a 100 yard stretch of road that I can get 1 bar LTE.

One foot either way NOTHING. Stay within the zone and 1 bar LTE ! 

Just enough to send off a note .

Just a quick note to report in that all is well, and I miss her . I usually drive out after my morning fishing .

She would be ok if I didn’t report in at all,  and on some trips reporting in is not an option but I know she worries about me up here alone.

 So I make the trip and send off my report .

Each night even though she knows I won’t get it until morning, she texts me “good night love you “ as she crawls into bed.

We say it every night to each other as we settle in for the night, a ritual that has lasted 37 years now.

Each night around the campfire when I think she is headed to bed I whisper “ good night, love you “ into the darkness.

I get my “good night” message each morning when I hit my 100 yard stretch of signal .

She knows my message will never be heard, yet will always be sent .

14 miles down a dirt road . Send the note, get a note and 14 miles back .

Although I am sad to have to leave tomorrow , I will be going home just a little better than when I got here .

No, trips like this don’t change the world or solve all your problems .

No, they won’t take away worries or fix anything that may be broken in your life .

They can’t erase heartache or poor choices .

Trips like this can’t do any of that .

But I will go home tomorrow just a little bit better than when I got here Monday .

I will be ...... well ..... just a little more of who I used to be .......

A little more….

 Me.

I love you good night .

Lucky !

The lake has finally calmed down after a day of very windy weather .

 There is about an hour left before darkness overtakes me.

Up here when it gets dark , it really gets dark !

My paddle silently dips into the water as I slowly move the canoe along the shore . 

The small Brook Trout are rising to the surface eating insects and they are taking anything I throw at them .

Although fun, I am hoping for something a little bigger to cap off a great first day here . 

I am looking for the telltale sign of a bigger fish among the endless rings. 

The ring left when a fish of size breaks the water feeding on a bug . 

Normally a bigger splash and bigger ring means a bigger fish.

As I round the bend on the shoreline I can see a large Boulder in the water . 

I silently make my way towards the Boulder .

 I fish up to and around the Boulder ...... nothing . 

As I start paddling on down the bank I hear a splash behind me that I know was a bigger fish . 

I kick the back of the canoe out with the paddle and make a cast in the direction of the ring . 

Within seconds my line is tight and a large salmon breaks the water ! 

After a brief battle that lasted only a couple minutes, I land the salmon in a trout net made for much smaller fish .

My personal best salmon!

My heart is racing at the size and the beauty of this fish! 

I didn’t take time to measure it as I wanted to get it back in the water as healthy as possible but I know it’s the biggest one I have ever caught . 

The fish is tired after the battle so I take a moment to revive it before it bolts away. 

I grab the paddle and again start making my way down the shoreline .

I would love to weave a tale of skill and stealth that caught that fish .

 

A tale that speaks to time stalking the fish and working hard to catch him but that truly would be a fish tale . 

Truth is I got lucky!

I heard the splash , I chose to cast back at it and the fish bite!

More luck than skill but that’s ok .

 I’ll take luck anytime ! 

The peeper frogs have started to sing their nightly song and the birds are already resting up for tomorrow. 

I have about 30 minutes and it will be dark .

There wasn’t another bite to be had that night and frankly I am ok with that .

With a new personal best salmon on

 the books and a quick video to show proof I am content with the evening . 

I turn the canoe around and head for camp .

It’s time for a fire !

Getting back to ........

They call it getting back to nature .

A trip like the one I just took thrusts you head long into everything Mother Nature has to offer, both good and bad !

With no electricity , no tv , no one to talk too, it’s easy for a person to focus on things that they can’t focus on while battling the daily grind of life .

When I go on one of these trips, what I enjoy most of all , is the solitude it provides me .

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy camping and fishing with Lisa or friends also. As a matter of fact, by the end of each trip like this, I am excited to share my time and adventures with anyone who will listen.

No , I am far from the hermit type person who would relish in never seeing another soul for as long as they existed .

I love my wife , my family, and my friends too much to slip off into the woods and never return.

I do however enjoy one or two trips a year where I can “get back to nature “ as they say .

I think part of the enjoyment of a solo trip is the lack of responsibility I feel when I am alone .

I know that may sound selfish to some but hear me out .

When I camp alone, I don’t have to worry if anyone else is having fun.

I don’t have to worry about the fish not biting and trying to figure out how to catch fish so the person I am with is having fun.

I don’t have to worry if what we are doing is enjoyable to who I am with .

You see for me, these trips are 100% about me .

I get to do what I want , when I want, and I don’t have to worry about anyone but myself .

Selfish ? Maybe .

When I was growing up, I was very much a loner .

Most fishing trips or time afield were taken alone .

When I was too young to drive, I would ride my bike to any and all fishing spots I could get to.

Once I had a car my territory expanded, and I would often strike off alone for a day’s fishing to exotic places like The Forks and Rangeley.

Yes, I fished but I also explored on every trip . I would check out everything I found along the way .

I would roll over rocks just to see what was underneath.

I would take a trail just to see where it went.

I would follow a brook for miles just to see where it ended up and see if maybe, just maybe, there was a waterfall somewhere along it .

As a child I found more things under rocks, at the end of the trail and around the next bend in the brook than I have since I became an adult .

For some reason as an adult, I lost or gave up the full pursuit of exploration that I cherished as a kid . Yes , I did some over the years but nothing like I did as a youth.

I can’t tell you the last time I rolled over a rock just to see what was under it.

I normally don’t follow a trail if I don’t know where it goes, in my hurried adult life, time afield usually means going to places I know, to ensure no time is wasted and the best possible experience can be had with the little time I have to spend .

So you see for me the chance to head off into the woods at least once a year alone, is a precious gift.

To leave the hustle and bustle of life behind .

To have zero distractions from tv, radio, no politics , no work worries , no Facebook , emails, or messages !

No news, headlines, or soundbite of the day!

No, I have nothing to focus on or worry about from everything our modern lives have become .

To spend 4 days and not say a word may sound strange to some but to me its enjoyable!

I guess it’s not about getting back to nature .

Really , I guess for me,

It’s getting back to “self”.

I rolled over rocks, I took trails that lead nowhere, and I followed streams just to see where they went.

Just me and who I used to be getting aquatinted again .

We had a great time !

Let me tell you all about it !

Choices

Chocolate or vanilla?

Coke or Pepsi?

Ford or Chevy?

Our world is an amazing array of choices that allow each person to enjoy life as they see fit.

No matter what the product is, from toothpaste to TV’s, there is always dozens of choices to fit your every need or desire.

We have truly created a society that ensures you can get what you what when you want it.

Because of that we tend to develop our favorites and stick with them.

If you are a ford person you have probably driven fords for a while, Coke drinker, Chocolate ice cream?

We all have our favorites and life allows us to always have what we want when we want it.

But what about the important thing in life. What about the things that really matter?

Where do you take sides on that?

Which camp do you fall into when it come to the truly important issues of life?

Of course, I am talking about a topic that only provides two options.

A topic that has not been commercialized and duplicated to the point where there are 17 shelves at Walmart with 100 different brands.

No, there are only two to chose from and I am interested in which you prefer and why.

What topic of great importance am I referring to?

Why it’s the age-old debate of which do you like better?

Which one touches you in some way more than the other?

I am of course talking about sunsets or sunrises?

Which one do you like most and why?

For me, its Sunsets!

The often brilliant and beautiful end of the day .

An end that signals no matter how rough the day was or how much you struggled, the final glimpse of daylight can provide a momentary glimpse of beauty that promises tomorrow we will start anew.

And tomorrow gives you another chance to make it better than today.

I love sunsets and the promise they give that tomorrow we will start a new !

What about you ?