Fishing the River

Salmon River Trout Management Area

The river is constant.  The river gurgles, hisses, and swooshes just as the wind slips through the bare branches on the trees.  The river is rhythmic; the same white riffles twist and turn over and over and over.  The river is mesmerizing as it shimmers in the changing light and slides by your feet. 

The river seduces.  Wade in and feel its cool power along your legs.  The river is electric.  It won't let you hold onto a moment because just as it was there, it is gone.  Constant motion. 

Salmon River Trout Management Area

My dog made her way out to this rock.  She loved the process.  She got to the rock and looked around like a queen.  She faced the river and was in control.  Then, she froze.  The angle of the rock combined with the deceptive speed and movement of the river was too much.   She panicked.  She froze and whimpered.  She was stuck.

Eventually, I waded back over and carried her to the bank. 

As I stood there and fished, I got to thinking about her experience.  She never waded more than two feet into the river the rest of the day--she stuck to the bank and enjoyed herself alongside the river.  She learned something about herself and she learned something about that river.  And, she was at peace with both. 

"Good for her," I thought.  She took a chance; she lived an intense moment.  She now has a better understanding of her relationship amongst the river.