My twelve and 8 year old nieces (twin 8 year-olds) came to visit from Friday to Saturday. They stayed the night, and we all hung out at our house. It was great fun, and we had a good time playing instruments and chatting.
Saturday morning saw the opportunity to go fishing. My nieces talked about it a lot during their stay. They were very avid about getting out on the water. I was really excited to show them a fun time fishing as well, thinking that it would be as simple as getting a hook on their pole, showing them where to cast, then letting them go. You know, self-sufficient. Independent. Powerful.
Then the tangles happened. And the stuck reels. And the lures wrapped around poles because of failed casts, and the inexperienced logic of, "Well, maybe if I keep flailing it frantically, the lure will magically fly away from me and light upon the water."
I remember those days as a kid, but I seemed to have forgotten them as an adult.
My wonderful 12 year-old niece loves to fly fish. Who could have asked for a more wonderful opportunity? All personal temper tantrums associated with that particular day aside, I am amazingly blessed to be part of a family of people that dig it. We practiced on our front lawn for a little while.
She flexed her skills on the water and landed the first green sunfish of the day.
The other two started kicking butt after a couple mishaps with reels and lures.
Below is a chunky green sunfish.
A beautiful purple bream.
An even bigger, beautiful purple bream.
All three girls caught more fish than these pictures depict. I caught a fingerling large-mouth on a red-head Black Ghost.
It was a great day on the lake. The only whitecaps were the ones on my infantile patience. But, they were forgiving. I'll do better next time. The most wonderful nugget of the day, though?
My wife standing near me and saying, "Oh, this makes me want to go fishing so bad."
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