Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Caught fishing


Traveled to a little dam called “Broomy” near Rosetta yesterday. It was a gusty day and the prospects of catching a slippery predator were slight. My little PFD short for “Personal floating device,” bobbed up and down in the windy South Westerly. I paddled like a duck with flippers into a quieter corner of the dam where the face of an Otter kept me company as he foraged for his recommended daily allowance. The reeds lanced through the water all around me like soldiers of the lake. The Spur-wing goose took flight, indignant of the intrusion in its sacred precinct. Up on the farm land the full moon stood buoyant between two irrigation water jets as if balanced like a beach ball. The Willows dipped thirsty into the water with their long green straws. The fly-line doing its figure of eight casting neatly between the banks in hope of a tug. These are my off days, my Sabbath, my time, my intimate moments of reverence, my Cathedral. Creation a sacrament around me imbibed with each breath, each sighting, each bird call. It doesn’t have to sing words from a hymnal or preach to convince. The silent whispering of wind, the whistle of a duck, and the splash of the Otter are the unpracticed choir that moves the soul.

4 comments:

Jenny Hillebrand said...

That is so cool. You brought a sense of God in nature into my office! Thanks.
Jenny

Rock in the Grass said...

this is beautiful writing! you have moved me closer to God.
Thank you for your descriptive prose.
PG

David said...

Thanks, I enjoy my days on the waters edge with nothing else to think about but staying afloat and getting in touch with my surrounds.

Sleepy Dog said...

Hi Dave,

Lovely writing, but it sounds as if you have seen this scene many times... are you sure that you only do this on your off days? Or rather, how many off days are we talking about here??

BTW, The whispering of the wind, the whistle of the duck, and the splash of the otter... is what my choir sounds like when they HAVE practiced!!! ;-)

Cheers,
Your irreverend friend
Stu