There’s all kinds of ways you can relax on Sunday afternoon after Mass and I’ll share one option with you. Go to a lake somewhere in central Texas and catch some fish, or at least try. With that in mind, I put a rod in the bed of the rig, Blue Crankbait in the cab and drove off to RV with GWB at a lake.
|Hope Springs Eternal|
Would I catch any fish, I asked myself hopefully, as Blue Eschaton frisked and gamboled in the lakeside pasture. Remembering past success, I put a sparkly green worm on a Bass hook and cast off. Bass love sparkly green worms, I thought, full of pescatorial wisdom.
Strike! Fish on, the rod bent double and out played the line. Big excitement in LSPland, I can tell you, and after a decent fight I reeled in a Bass. Good result. A little later, GWB tipped up and cast off with a spinner but soon retired to watch a Sand Hill Crane through a spotting scope. There it was, a Sandhill Crane.
I kept fishing, however, which is a sport that’s all about perseverance, and was rewarded with a fair sized Catfish that struck my plastic worm near the surface. Again, big excitement, top water hi-jinx, but he slipped the hook after thrashing about in the water like an enraged Great White. Readers, all three of you, don’t underestimate the fury of the fish. Then, as the sun was beginning to set, another Bass decided to strike, this time hitting a blue worm. Bass love blue plastic worms. Well, at least this one did, and that was that.
|A Typical Texas Sunset|
Fishing adventure over, we scouted out the land near the lake for potential predator calling and hunting. It’s beautiful country and remarkably green and lush, which will change all too soon under the fierce Texan sun; the country even has hills and views, or vistas. Rremarkable, it’s like Gloucestershire, except for the bobcats, snakes, coyotes and wild pigs.
Speaking of which, the man who farms there says that pigs are always a problem and I guess they are, except when they’re on the grill.
God bless Texas,