Wild Man

Courtesy,www.castlegar.ca

My husband David loves fishing. I married a man whose Dad would drop him off with his rod, reel, and bait at a fishing spot in Greenbrae and not come back to get him for a few hours. David spends a good part of our summers plotting his next fishing trip. He will search for the perfect fly, make dates with experienced guides, e-mail back and forth to his fishing buddy, and more, just to be able to cast his line in clean waters and catch and release rainbow trout.

Upon his return, I take in his fishing stories with all the interest I can muster as I love fish, but that is when I am eating them. I call him a “Wild Man” as he recounts hiking through treacherous brambles where fresh mountain lion droppings are evident on boulders nearby.

My laid back Marin attitude just cannot picture myself fly-fishing from eight in the morning until nine at night with only a brief interlude for meals. Yet I love my husband’s outdoorsman persona as he comes back from his fishing trips rugged, worn out, and content. This endurance reminds me to love my hobbies to the extent that I make them a meaningful ritual. For, in effect, the ritual rounds out my character.

Through his dedication to the love of fishing, I find I too can be passionate about my hobbies, like writing. Surely he personifies the need to seek solitude where his inner peace can take hold and free up room for his passion of fishing. How else could David fish for 10 hours a day for four days?

Does he reach a method of mind over matter where his body becomes one with the fishing pole? I have seen him fish and it is beautiful to watch the line cast out into the water only to dance on the surface for a moment until it is drawn back over his shoulder for a short break. David gets a focused look on his face, expression is minimal and he is deep in thought about feeling the next bite of a rainbow trout on his hook.

I wonder does he look at me as if I too am a fish swimming around in his world just waiting for him to bait and hook me with another one of his vivid, fun, and entertaining ideas. Yet, maybe that is taking the whole fishing scenario too far as we are human and I could see his hook coming a mile away after 31 years of marriage, after all. Still, he mesmerizes me in a way that a fish may be entranced by colorful bait on a hook. I am thankful to have such a focused husband who can delight me with his yen for his fishing hobby because I too want to join in the fun of focusing on my hobbies in life too. Together, we can delight each other with what tickles our fancy on into the next 40 years, I hope.