Man and Fish Meet
Man and Fish meet one morning in an ultimate showdown between the two. Now, both are wiser because of the meeting.
Once there was a largemouth bass that cruised the shoreline of a Louisiana water impoundment every morning. His habitat was the lake bottom. Slurping worms and leeches off the sandy underwater tundra populated with aquatic grass was his pastime. On the lake’s surface was an angler. He sat perched on the bench seat of a slightly crumbled jon boat. To him that seat was like a king’s throne, and from that seat he watched nature dance, many a sun rise, and birds sing to welcome him to a new day.
The bass swam along the watery bottom, carefully selecting nuggets of protein, both small and large. The angler sat staring at his fly box, wondering what fly to use, a small size 14 foam spider or the big momma, the size 4 hunter green popper with a red and yellow mouth. Both were barbless. The bass grew a bit tired of black slinky leeches that clung to the leaves of bottom dwelling lake plants. He desired something more.
Something caught the bass’s eye….the silhouette of something… but what was it? It was on the surface. It could be a frog. It could be a grasshopper. It could be… then it twitched… “I know what it is!” thought the bass… “Breakfast!” The angler sat in the boat, half-focused on his prized popper bobbing on the water, half marveling at the sunrise. Then it happened! The water’s surface exploded like a nuclear missile launching from an Ohio class submarine. The bass inhaled the fly, lodging it in his rigged cheek!
The angler was initially startled, just like the time he saw Robert Shaw get eaten by a shark in the movie Jaws. He quickly came to his senses. The hook was “set” with a sharp jerk of his left hand. The heavy duty fly rod immediately transformed to a tool of captivity. The bass almost appeared joyful as it leapt from the water, dancing like a lame person who died and went to heaven and was healed. The rod tip bent with the curve of an upside down “C”, but its midsection remained strong. The angler struggled to maintain tension on the line. The bass shook his head like a dog who captured its prey. The angler's heart sank for an instant thinking the largemouth bass “threw the hook”. But no…he was still on. The rod, with the backbone of Daniel Boone and the tip as sweet as Ginger Rogers, did its job. It flexed and contorted to keep tension between the fly and the angler. Man and fish were now as one.
The bass now dove to the bottom. “Dive, Dive, Dive” were the only thoughts racing through the mind of the bass. “Turn, turn, turn” were the only thoughts running through the angler’s mind. The bass swam for cover. The angler struggled to keep him in the clear. Suddenly the bass relaxed.
The angler took a deep breath. The bass realized an unworldly sensation. He was swimming without exerting energy. The angler rapidly stripped the bass to the boat. Carefully netting him. Then man and fish met…
The world stood still for a moment… The glassy eye of the bass met the hazel brown eye of the angler. Both marveled at the other. A cool breeze suddenly tickled man and fish as it danced across the water, a sensation both experienced simultaneously. “Well done, you beautiful creature of the deep”, the man whispered to the fish. And at that the angler carefully removed the hook from the fish and submerged the net in the water. The giant bass swam away in slow motion.
The gentle breeze embraced the boat and it began to slowly drift. Man and fish, once one, were now two again. The distance between them grew greater and greater, just as their wisdom of each other expanded to new depths of mutual understanding and respect for one another.