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Bo Hunt, metro-Atlanta Mortgage Professional Douglasville, GA More about me… First Choice Mortgage Group Office Phone: (770) 942-9818 Cell Phone: (678) 643-3266 Email Me   ;) Links;) Tags (Tag Cloud);) Archives
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A few years ago, I took my family down to Franklin D. Roosevelt State Park, in Pine Mountain, Georgia to camp. We do this regularly, as it sits outside of Callaway Gardens, where we like to go on day trips. My oldest daughter, who was 5 at the time, asked me to take her fishing at the lake in the campground. While I'm not a big fisherman, I've lived my entire life in Georgia, so I know a little bit about hooking a fish. I grabbed my little Zebco, a bobber, a weight, a hook, a few end pieces from a loaf of bread, and my daughter, and we headed to the lake. When we got there, a man and his pre-teen son were out fishing by the lake, fully geared with their artificial lures, worms, and multiple rods. After exchanging pleasantries, I began to string the line for my daughter. After tying the hook and placing the bobber and weight, I showed my daughter how to make little dough balls with the bread, and chum the water. Afterwards, I placed a dough-ball on the hook, and looked over, noticing that we were being watched. The boy was asking his dad what we were doing. The man laughed, and told his son that I was "trying to teach my daughter how to fish". I asked the man how it'd been going, to which he replied that the fish just weren't biting, that they had no luck at all. I cast the dough-baited line out into the lake, and gave the rod to my girl, telling her to watch the bobber. The boy asked what we were thinking, fishing with bread. I told him that I found this worked well for catching Bream (Sun Perch to some), and I was hoping to let my girl catch a fish. The man laughed again, and told me that "bread was for breakfast, not for fishing"; that they'd been out all morning and not had a bite. About that time, the bobber bobbed and went under. I jumped towards the rod and helped my daughter set the hook, and within minutes, my daughter had her first fish. It was a little bream about the size of a person's hand. After about half an hour, and 8 or 9 fish later, the boy asked his dad if he could go back to their campsite and get some bread. There was a resounding, "no!", and shortly there-after, the father packed he and his son up and left.
Bo... I went for that one 'hook line and sinker'...! I just went straight back down that time tunnel to when I was 3-4 years old and my dad used to take me fishing to some of the lakes in North of Winnipeg, Manitoba.........Apart from the 4 am start time and the slathering of mosquito repelent...the one on one time we spent together, replays in my memory over and over again.......45 years later........i'm now 50 and he is 75....those times were so precious....he taught me about the sounds of silence........communing with nature.........I think it was his way of meditating.......His calm and steady voice.....He'd pass the rod over to me to hold......(so he could get something) just as the fish was hooked.!.....He made me feel like the best! His 'fishy' princess...! You never know when a pricesless unforgetable moment is going to happen!
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Bo- I am always open minded to new ideas. I try to invite others to be with us here in the rain yet I don't get the same openmindedness from them.