Estimated reading time: 1 minute(s)

There’s something magical about fishing. Ian is currently enthralled. He remembers fishing last year in the pond at the place we are staying again this year. And he loves it. It compels him to cast again, reel in and hope for a bite from a tiny little Brim.

They obliged.

Ian was hookin’ the little critters left and right. One after another, some only moments after the bobber hit the water! It was great!

But the magic was not in the water. It wasn’t in the reeling, or sliding the worm on the hook. Certainly not in the fishy smell, though that does kinda grow on ya…

The magic was in the dad, and the son and our new older friend (he’s a great grandpa type) sitting and talking about fishing, and other stuff of life. It’s quiet, peaceful, and there’s no other noise. Just the noise God has made.

We saw lots of fish, entertained a turtle or two, and learned a bit about each other and about fishing.

Simple. Peaceful. Perfect.

I think we’re going to be fishing more.