Kayak on the roof and fly rod in hand, I offer her an untruth. “I am off to fish, be back at dinner,” I say, but, this is just an excuse. I am off to see my seductress.
She is as young as spring, and as old and wise as all time. Her sparkling curves nurture and give life. At once dark and moody, and bubbling bright is she; looking glass shallow, and deep as life itself. The way she moves; pure seduction. She is new each day, each day more intoxicating than the last. She will seduce all that come to rejoice with her, but fail any that would tame her. Unbridled passion and energy give way to soothing quiet and peace from within.
It is she that keeps me coming back here, not the trout, nor the thrill, but the River. If I spent everyday in the bliss of her cool company, I would never really know her. Each day a new set of miracles would unfold. Each day, set to her own music, the dance-of –life commences. So it has been since the dreamtime.
I glide silently past the hummocks and the cattails. The redwing blackbirds ignore me. The grass-like weeds wave me on as the sounds of mechanical life are replaced by the soothing sounds of water eternal. It is impossible to reconcile her complexity with her simple beauty. The reeds and plants support the insects and the beavers, and clean the river. The insects, born of her, sustain life for the fish and birds and bats. The fish support the otters, and the osprey, the heron, and so many others. On and on the story goes…
I watch as goose bumps radiate along her torso passing through that which allows me to trespass where only ducks were welcome. The breeze that causes them delivers her cool, deep aroma, of life pure to my senses. I am at peace.
My Hendrickson slides along a crease, as I watch intently, and disappears beneath the surface, with only a silvery expanding ring to mark the spot. Quickly, gently, I set the hook and my leader wanders through the mirrored surface as if by magic. A moment later my seductress offers up her charms, a jewel, a brookie, black as night and speckled with the colors of nature’s passion. Sleek and strong and beautiful, my adversary, my partner has been shaped to perfection by millions of years of good breeding, as I slip him back beneath the waves. Under her protection, wiser now, he rejoins the dance-of-life.
She gives so much of herself to us, and asks of us so little in return. Is it too much to treat her with respect, to allow her to flow free for all time? She cannot fight in her defense. We must do it for her. We must protect her and the dance we call life.