25th October 2007

Stripers & Other Wildlife - Poem

posted in Angler Testimonials |

By Janet Gertz

Heavily perfumed with repellent,
the murkiness of the trodden forest path,
is erratically illumined by our bobbing headlamps,
which magnetize a bevy of moths.

The three joggling rods with reels
and our essential tackle, swing back and forth
as if keeping time with our steps.
On the edge of the path sits a burly porcupine.

Upon arriving at the shore
I listen to the diminutive sounds of the low tide current.
First cast, second cast, third cast,
I feel delighted when I hook a schoolie.

Soothing sprays of ocean water,
occasionally dust my face with salt.
From the distant boulder of the jetty,
I hear their muffled voices,
jesting and joking about bears.

I recline in the solidarity of darkness
and gaze at pinholes of star light
in the otherwise ebony colored sky.
I ponder a prior discovery of engravings…
were they a hoax or was the area visited by Vikings?

Soon we retrace our steps
and go home for the night.

Two rise in the predawn darkness,
leaving our half consumed coffee and partially eaten bagels,
we don our rubber bibs and boots.

In the truck I place a cooler containing bait.
Creepy, crawly, wiggly, slimey.
Navigating along the curving road,
a brief journey, we arrive at the new spot.

Beyond a distant island,
the sky is intensely tinted in crimson.
Single file…
We navigate the shoreline…
Edge…

In the threatening, semi-overcast glow
I begin to see evidence of lavender sea heather.
A multitude of hoof imprints from deer.

We gently maneuver our gear amongst the brush.
Then, with the sea water up to my waist,
I troll back and forth, casting between
my make shift boundary of protruding ledges.
He captures a twenty-two inch fish.

Scattered rain drops forming tiny rings,
upon the retreating tide.
Bam! Hit! The squealing line pulls forward.
Water splashes, radiating reluctance.

My catch is a thirty-three inch strong.
A striped bass.
We take photos and release the fish.
She glides off into the murky waters.

With jovial attitudes our gear is packed.
Prudently…
We retrace our earlier steps,
within halos of ferocious mosquitoes.

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 25th, 2007 at 4:16 pm and is filed under Angler Testimonials. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.
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