| |
A slight cool breeze, the sound of barely-existing waves lapping gently against the boat, and over head, a black sky with a million stars that seem close enough to touch - nytfishn'. It just doesn't get any better.
I fell in love with night fishing. There is a mystery about it, a sense of fantasy. Night fishing is an experience of the soul, not just an event.
Although there are some very nice lakes, Colorado is a bit land-locked. Additionally, it is also very populated. It seems like every fishing/boating/skiing spot available is crowded all the time. Maybe it is for that reason that night fishing is so enchanting.
We arrive shortly before dusk to a very busy reservoir called Chatfield - commonly referred to as CHOPfield. Due to the vast amount of boats and skiers, the water literally churns all day, every day. But arriving near dusk, we have a new experience. As each ski boat is docked, Chopfield slowly returns to Chatfield once again. We can see it and we can feel it as the choppy water becomes calm as a clam again.
As darkness claims our little corner of the world, we anchor 'Antiquity' in a hopeful spot and set up for the night. We have two favorite tools of night fishing, rods with little red lights at the tips and cute little bells that alert us to fish.
I stare at my red light unendingly, positive it's bouncing - something's playing! When it bounces for real, there is no doubt when that tiny red beacon leaves your line of vision. The monster be takin' the bait! Or the tinkling of the bells as the fish jerks to get off the hook it has swallowed. Music to my ears!
We choose the back two seats of the boat, it's more roomy and open back there. We planned well for the night with thermoses of coffee and such. We settle back and wait for the big ones. The radio croons softly and we relaxed with the gentle rocking of the boat.
Silence. The air is warm. The nearly inaudible sound of water lapping against the boat.
Our words barely disturb the night as we talk amiably. We'd reached that time of the early morning when the sky seems to drop and become just beyond the touch. Suddenly, stars fall, leaving lines of glitter, briefly, along the velvet background. Our hands reach to join and we watch the silent display.
When first light breaks the eastern sky and the roar of the first motor of the morning cuts through the silence, we sigh to ourselves. Sleepily we pulled the boat onto dry land as the skiers returned to stir up our calm waters.
We didn't catch anything this night.
Sometimes, it just doesn't matter.
|
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
|
 |
|
|
|
Select a Random Work
from Stories
|
|
Welcome !
