Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Walking on the Moon

Giant steps are what you take



walking on the moon.





I hope my legs don't break,
walking on the moon.



We could walk forever,


walking on the moon.


How to
Ice Fish with Crystal

1. This is #1 for a reason. Be sure to go with someone besides me.
I highly recommend Todd and/or K.C. They know what to bring, and I only kinda
do. I can help you pass the time while sitting on the ice, but I couldn't
promise that we'd be able to fish, stay warm, save ourselves in a tragic turn of
events, or find our way home. Mostly I could sit by you and talk your ear off,
if frostbite didn't get it first.

2. Be willing to sing. It is widely known that singing voices are a kind of bait
to arts-hungry perch and walleye. They respond best to made-up songs containing
their species name in the chorus.

3. Think of a secret to tell me. The 2-person portable fish house lends
itself to intimate conversation and is only enhanced by the lack of people and
the abundance of white, of wind. The secret doesn't even really have to a
high-secrecy content. Just tell me a story in a way that it seems secret-like.
For example, when Nancy and I were in K.C.'s fish house on Sunday, she told me . . .oh, wait. Nevermind.

4. Bring or enjoy eating very cold hummus.

5. Remember, continually, how odd ice fishing is. I will bring
this fact up on a number of occasions. It will never cease seeming absurd to me
that I first need to hold my bait hook up to the light so to charge its
glow-element. Then, I reach my bare hand into a freezing cold bucket of minnows,
grab one, and then pinch its head from its body. Nevermind the fact that I
then throw the hooked head into a hole, admire the glow that I created as it
falls deeper into the water, and then wait -- that hardly ends up the oddest
part of the experience.

6. Celebrate the pride of being crazy tough. It's the only award available, unless you count the great peace that is real, natural silence, only found on snow-covered, frozen water. Or the haunting sound of the ice cracking, shifting beneath you. Or being able to sacrifice your own comfort, for a little while, to watch your loved one fully in his element. Or having uninterrupted time with your good friend. Or catching a fish, even a very, very small one. Those are nice parts, too.
Photos were taken at Tulaby Lake, near Waubun, MN on Sunday, Jan. 19, 2009. Photo 1 captures Nancy & K.C., pulling their gear, our cars parked on the lake in the background. Photo 2 captures Todd with his gear.

1 comment:

Claudia said...

This brought tears to my eyes- losing your own comfort- we are such selfish people- thank you for reminding us of the great joy in watching someone else enjoy a moment we may not think is so momentous