I am the shadow cast against the riverbank where my Dad used to sit patiently with me. I am the lessons he taught me there about the speckled trout, the current, and the presentation. I am the tenacity of cold finger tips on an early spring morning, fumbling and learning through years of lost hooks, lost worms and lost bites. I am the echo of the sound that fills the trout stream air and every perfect note that drew my heart closer to nature. I am the student of the outdoors, learning how every piece of nature is connected and why my decisions really matter. I am the voice that speaks up to protect special places from plazas and pavement. I am the optimism that always looks upstream, determined to leave an outdoors future for the next generation. I am my son’s fishing hero, tying his line where my Dad once tied mine. I am the tradition that is making another family memory. I am the passion that comes from the stream. I am the trout fisherman.
Nice piece of writing Rob. It brought back some great memories of early morning trips to the creek with dad, when I was just a wee lad. 😊