(I've really had a thing lately for parenthesis)
I have pictures in my head that I need to get on the computer but I can't find a plug-in on the computer for that (or on my head).
You know how sometimes you do something that you really set out NOT wanting to do? And then afterwards you're really glad you did it? And you really had an okay time? Yesterday, Jay was off school. I had six billion things to do. I knew he wanted to go fishing. But I DID NOT HAVE TIME TO FISH. After running around all morning, doing errands and dropping off checks and making phone calls, we made it home around lunch. I was all ready to get into unpacking more boxes and Swiffering the floor when I looked at him in the living room, a little dejected on his day off from school.
"Get your tackle box and pole together" I said, "let's go fish." He was ready in 49 seconds and we were heading out. I should have taken my camera. But all I could think about was coming home in an hour or so.
Then, suddenly, we were sitting on the ground at Lake Mary and Jay was deciding whether he should use a spinner or a bobber, and I was listening to the sound water makes when it hits the shore. I looked down the edge of the water about 30 feet and there was a Great Blue Heron! Just hanging out, waiting for fish to fly in its mouth. It was so beautiful. That's my first camera-less picture. Water sparkly in the background, a tall bird, feathered bluish and grayish. Long, thin yellow beak and several white feathers protruding from the top of his head, drooping slightly toward the back. The sky in the background is the color of wind. Spindly legs the same color as the beak. One eye watching. (Can you see him?) Black feathers near the eyes. His "s" shaped neck is silky and is the part you most want to reach out and touch. He's not perfect, his feathers slick in some places, shaggy in others, and there's an odd ruffle part way down his back. It looks like a bird cow-lick. His beak is scratched in two places; it looks like someone used a brillo pad to clean off some fish residue. His expression is perfect. Wary, watchful, calm. Yes, wary and calm at the same time. He is not looking at the camera, but slightly side view, head turned more toward us than away. That's the picture. In the video, he slowly opens his large angel wings and lifts off from the water, his bird feet suddenly emerging, his neck straightening out, all grace and flight. You can hear the wings flap, like a whisper by your ear, and he glides over to the other shore, landing in the reeds to peruse the fish availability over there.
Now we've been there an hour. I've been alternately reading a book (Trash, by Dorothy Allison) and taking the errant weeds off Jay's hook. I'm the official hook "de-weeder" on this outing. No fish have been caught. The man 60 feet down the shore has caught 30. Really. Jay just keeps reeling in weeds. But he's good. He's casting it out, reeling it in. He likes this. He's rather have two trout on his stringer but we're learning patience in fishing.
I stand and walk a few feet up the shore. I look down. Here's the other picture. A weed. Large, the size of a milk carton. Partially in the water. It's stems are papery, with a few dime sized, sand colored flowers here and there, dried and dead. In the center of the plant are several brilliant green leafy pieces. They are growing straight up the middle. Then, you notice the orange. Tiny droplets of bright orange. Ladybugs. Twenty-seven. Doing lady bug business. Some are almost red. Some are nearly pastel. Most are identical beautiful orange. Black spots everywhere. Tiny black heads. Even tinier peeks of ladybug legs. Because it's a picture, they are all frozen in place, but you can tell some are moving about by the way a few are slightly blurred. They are their own little lady bug world. The brown stems at the water's surface are darker and look a bit slimy. They sit on the water like small strands of tissue paper. The water itself is brackish but still reflective. The ladybugs are about the size of those little pink erasers that are stuck on the tops of pencils. In the picture, some are bigger, close-up. You can even see the barely brownish ring that separates the orange background from the black dot. There is a corner of the picture that is the mud of the shore. It has speckles of black and brown and gray everywhere. It looks thick, almost clay-like. In the video, the lady bugs keep moving, busy and mindless on their temporary thatched home.
We fish for 2 hours. Well, Jay fishes, I read and take mind pictures. It's an good day. We also get irritated and tired. It's windy and the sun squints my eyes too much. Jay's line gets caught on his last cast and we both are tired. He gets mad at the pole, and I cut my finger on the line trying to get it uncaught. We get in the car and I muster up a good attitude. "That was fun, even though you didn't catch anything, we still saw some cool stuff. And you did get some bites. We'll come back in a few weeks." Jay musters up the good attitude too, to my immense happiness..."Yeah, that was fun. I love fishing."
