Truth pushes here. Not everyone [maybe an understatement?] liked let alone relished my sermons offering fishing stories—always as metaphors, but based upon reality. Some even told me such. Yet. Never…in all the 50 years of preaching, has anyone complained about fish. In fact, I still maintain a can of smoked salmon gifted—SALMON THAT I CAUGHT AND HAD SMOKED—was never denied, let alone not appreciated. No less, I continue to figure that canned smoke salmon is a much better host/hostess gift than flowers, candy or wine. [Thanks, Marc at Skipanon Cannery in Warrenton, Oregon, my go-to canner guy!]
Yep. Fishing’s pretty important…and not accidentally in each of the murder mystery novels, fishing is more than fishing. Each fishing instance is essential in leading to the culprit.
But personally, fishing leads to…no, make that, embodies…true joy. In fact, some of the most important dates for this year mark [get the verb?] the time when I’ll be in a boat plying fading skills changing fishing to catching.
I know. You’ve never wondered, what is my “body language” when departing for a fishing trip, even before getting to the dock? Well, see and realize, friends, this Facebook is more truth than fiction…at least for me mentally. I’m not sure I could do all that dancing, though, with the icy dock?
Enjoy…and even more, breathe in hope that today is good for you and through you to others.
Tight lines [the most common fishing sign-off],