EDiS – Environments/Habitats - #27 - “Swamp”
I was raised by a compulsive fly fisherman. No family activity, vacation, or travel was undertaken unless it somehow culminated in, or involved, fly fishing. I have some pretty bad childhood memories resulting from my father's obsession. But, I also have a few good ones – like a rustic log cabin on the shore of a high mountain lake in British Columbia –outhouse, wood stove, bears, coyotes, loons, and moose swimming the lake at sunset. Pan fried fresh steelhead. The milky way and northern lights so close you could hear them singing.
That was a big one. A little one was tiny Lake Hannan, in the woods above Duvall, and me, maybe 12 or 13, laying tummy down on warm summer planks, dropping no-see-ems and skeeters into flytraps to get them to slam their jaws in satisfaction, surrounded by the funky aroma of skunk cabbage and swamp moss, and the songs of tiny green peeper's. Sometimes I was joined in the lazy warm by a silent green and yellow garter snake, or by noisy blue and red dragonflies.
These are all good memories. The fishing wasn't.
And do it, I still will not.
I was raised by a compulsive fly fisherman. No family activity, vacation, or travel was undertaken unless it somehow culminated in, or involved, fly fishing. I have some pretty bad childhood memories resulting from my father's obsession. But, I also have a few good ones – like a rustic log cabin on the shore of a high mountain lake in British Columbia –outhouse, wood stove, bears, coyotes, loons, and moose swimming the lake at sunset. Pan fried fresh steelhead. The milky way and northern lights so close you could hear them singing.
That was a big one. A little one was tiny Lake Hannan, in the woods above Duvall, and me, maybe 12 or 13, laying tummy down on warm summer planks, dropping no-see-ems and skeeters into flytraps to get them to slam their jaws in satisfaction, surrounded by the funky aroma of skunk cabbage and swamp moss, and the songs of tiny green peeper's. Sometimes I was joined in the lazy warm by a silent green and yellow garter snake, or by noisy blue and red dragonflies.
These are all good memories. The fishing wasn't.
And do it, I still will not.
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