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| "At the Rivers Bend"- 16 x 20 Original Acrylic |
Back in the 60's and 70's there just wasn't the entertainment for small children that we have today. No toys of every shape, size and color or videos, game systems, smart phones or tablets to pass the hours in overstimulated technological euphoria. No, in my childhood, entertainment was something you had to create yourself with your own imagination and meager surroundings of sticks, leaves, rocks and acorns. I can only recall one real family vacation that had actually had a destination that didn't end in Western Kansas and my granny's house. So spending a day on the river once in a while with my family and particularly with my grandmother was something that very much stands out in my memory.
There was a particular spot that was a family favorite to fish on the Gasconade River and high above on the cliffs was a large cave that contained a great number of bats. As the sun dropped down below the trees and the night creatures began to stir, the bats would begin to fly out of the cave to hunt the abundance of bugs that flew around the water. They were aerial acrobats that would dive bomb the river and give quite a show with their athletic skills. Their sonar abilities however weren't able to detect the fishing lines and often they would hit your line as they skimmed the surface of the river. This was absolutely thrilling to me and was almost as exciting as catching that big fish
The activity of fishing has always held a special place in my life even if I haven't got to fish in years. As a child, growing up in Missouri, fishing the river for catfish was one of my favorite things to do mostly because I associated it with my dear grandmother. I was her fishing buddy from a very young age. I could sit with her quietly for hours adoring all the special attention I received from her. It was just the two of us and the river waiting to see who could catch the biggest fish. I wish I had a picture of her and I sitting together and I would paint that right into my very next piece.
So this morning I put on my creative hat and started writing a verse about some of the highlights a true fisherman goes through when trying to "Hook the Big One". Let me know if you can relate to my "fishing is the greatest therapy" comparison. It is the one time that my mind shuts off to everything else and my FULL attention is given to the gentle flow of the water current and the possibility of all those fish hidden below the surface just getting ready to check out that fat juicy worm. How about you?
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| "The Fishing Hole"- 11 x 14 Original Acrylic |
The Fishing Hole
by
Julie Townsend
Here you sit
at your favorite fishing hole
Most times
it’s more like a giant wishing hole
You’ve known
for years this is where the big one swims
If you could
only hook him as the light fades and dims
You dream of
the struggle it will take to reel him in
You can almost
hear the slap on the water of tail and fin
Pulled down
far on your brow is your lucky hat
Grooves in the
ground from the years your folding chair has sat
Your hook is
loaded with your favorite bait
There is
nothing for you to do now but to sit and wait
The old tackle
box is packed to the brim and ready
Your pole and
reel are in your hand held steady
Time seems to
stand still for just a moment
Nothing can
come between you and your underwater opponent
The cares of
the world all fade from sight
Everyone knows
that fishing is therapy to get your head right
A folding
chair is way cheaper than a therapist couch
And the few
hours at the river bank will always straighten your slouch
Today
everything is in that perfect place
After all
catching fish is certainly no race
Covered from
head to toe in sticky mosquito spray
Hoping it will
keep those little blood suckers away
Swatting flies
that insist on landing on the tip of your nose
While keeping
a close eye on the ants crawling around your toes
These are the
payments and dues you must pay
To sit here
dreaming of the BIG ONE on such a perfect day
