Damn, that's a purty picture. I envision the hungry trout in that pond voraciously gorging on as many insects in the wrong place at the wrong time, that is from the insects' point of view, as they possibly can - instinctively knowing that winter is coming soon to the top of the Rockies. Fall, to me, is the best time of year to trek off into the upper reaches of the mountains and be mesmorized by spell that Mother Nature has cast upon the High Country. The weather, barring any sudden storms barreling over the Continental Divide, is perfect for taking a nice long hike to the tree line (usually about 10,000 feet), locating a creek that began as a small, steady drip from the permafrost above, hugging that creek bank as it meanders down the mountainside, fishin' my ass off for several hours and several thousand vertical feet. I tend to go to the remote fishin' spots where the likelihood of seeing another human is, well, remote. Then God and I have a visit about stuff and the sounds of the alpine wilderness speak to my soul, as if He has commanded them to do so especially for me, a goofy fisherman. As Crocodile Dundee said, "Yep. Me and God, we be mates". When I am fishin', I am the hunter, tempting the fish to accept the bounty of my offering, while in my thoughts the words "teach a man to fish..." reverberate, like an echo in the canyon that lays before me. Then it hits me. I ain't so smart after all, for I am the one who has accepted the bounty of an offering. The offering that is the place where I am. Hooked like a hungry trout who at the moment of capture realizes that he's been caught. I, too, have been "caught". Lured by something so tempting that refusal is not an option. I have been "caught" by the Greatest Fisherman of All. God. The Fisher of Man. Yep. Me and God, we be mates -and Fishin' Buddies.
The family and I ran some errands this past weekend and I observed two things : 1) Some trees are already going from the greens of summer to the red to yellow to dead of the oncoming winter and 2) I can't take my little girls out in public without the urge to drop them off and leave them with the WalMart greeter. But! The WalMart greeters have done nothing wrong to me and they are, generally speaking, old enough to remember when McDonalds signs said "Over 3 Served". I would never inflict that kind of misery upon an old person, as I am nearing old personhood myself. I shall suffer in silence. :) Today is Augusta 30 and we are about to experience probably the longest stretch of "summer" that we've had this year in Augusta, Maine. Temps are going to "soar" to (Note to Texans: No laughing at what you are about to read) the low 90's! The average high temperature for this date is 76 degrees, the normal low, 55. As you can guess, many Mainers are torn between packing up their summer wardrobes and cursing this late summer heat wave. The Mainers I have come across lately are leaning towards the use of, as Mr. Spock says, "colorful metaphors". All I know is that some of the language I've heard lately regarding the hot weather would make Gordon Ramsey blush. And that's just from the women! At any rate, fall is on the way to New England, soon to be followed by you-know-what. I dare not say the word. I guess it's time to do some serious "quality control" on the local lakes, rivers, creeks and ponds. Fish.%$#@(&^.Fear.Me. Sorry, I picked up that "colorful metaphor" from the little old lady across the way. She is not, however, a WalMart greeter. And I really don't like her anyway. Hey, lady, want some kids?
Are you ready for some footbaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllll? (in my best Howard Cosell voice) "There's only eleven days until the kickoff of the two... thousand ten... season of the...National....Football....League!" Yup, it's that time of year when we fondly remember our summer vacations, curse the Dog Days of August, lament the annual rite that is the Texas Rangers as cellar-dwelling has beens in the American League West....Wait!...The Rangers are in first place with a comfortable lead over Oakland? Pardon me a minute while I have "The Big One" a la Fred G. Sanford. (time passes) The kind folks at the Maine General ER, Red Sox fans all (eat the Rangers' dust Sawx fans everywhere!), said that I had a case of "What-the-hell-are-the-Rangers-doing in-1st-place-going into-September-itis" and "It's-football-season-atosis", a very rare disorder - rare simply because the Rangers are in first place heading into September. They told me to take one season opener and call them next week. Speaking of season openers...(they don't call me the Swami of Segue for nothing) The season kicks off on Thursday, September 9, with the Super Bowl Champion New Orleans Saints (I already had a Big One for that) hosting (insert more Howard Cosell voice here) "Numba Fo-wa, "The Brilliant One" from Kiln, Mississippi, Brett Fahve and the Vikings of Minnesota at the Supah Dome in the Hurricane Katrina-ravaged Big Easy, New...Or...leans...Louisiana!" The Saints are currently at 10-1 odds to win the Super Bowl again, according to the Las Vegas Hilton. Minnesota, along with Dallas and my team, Green Bay, are listed at 12-1, while Peyton Manning and the Indianapolis Colts sit at 6-1. We'll see how all that prognostication holds up throughout the season, say late November or so. The Dallas Cowboys open on the road in D.C. against their hated rivals, the Redskins, on the 12th and that game will be in prime time on NBC. Here's the entire regular season schedule from NFL.com . The crisp autumn air is slowly but surely making it's way southward and not soon enough for me because I am ready for some footbaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllllllllllll !