11 years ago
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Fishing at Little Lake
We spent some time at Island Park right after graduation. Jon and I wanted to go fishing at little lake one last time. So Grandpa took us with Jon dad and my dad too. It was really fun, but the fishing has been better in the past. But one lesson I learned is never give up a chance to go fishing.
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Like father like son like grandfather. Our lives and weaved with tradtions. Within our souls is the call of the mountains, pine trees and clear running rivers and streams. There is within us the yearning to catch the biggest fish and something refreshing about holding a freshly caught trout. There is something about noses that tell who we are and where we have come from. There is something that calls us to find the biggest and tallest tree in the forest. There is life that comes into our soles as we gause up into the night skys and watch a shooting star... an then stare back at the coals of a camp fire seeking the meaning of life. There is something about reaching within us to feel the lives of those who have gone before, wishing we could have been pioneers. There is something out being at one with God and nature. Have you ever wondered why you love the smell of fresh cut hay, or a pine tree.
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