When I was a Boy,
I can remember slipping out the back door, quietly shutting it behind me so to not wake the house. I would stop at the pasture gate, looking back to make sure Mom and Dads bedside lamp had not come on. With that done I knew that my coast was clear. It was a Saturday morning and that meant the day was mine.
I would gather up my equipment which set waiting for me inside the small hay shack along the back fence. There I would dress for my day of independence.
First was the small tackle box attached to a piece of hay twine that hung off my left shoulder across the chest and settle in its place at my right waist.
My trusty Zebco 33 reel and rod would then be slung across my chest from over the other shoulder with usually a rubber worm on the tip of the rod which was my pennant of freedom.
The small single shot 410 shot gun found its place cradled in my right arm leaving my left hand available for gate chains, the middle strand of the barbed wire fences and to snatch the spider's dew covered webs from my face that had been spun between the Johnson Grass weeds during the night.
By the time the sun had made it as high as a thumbnail at the end of an extended arm I would be in place at the creeks bank 2 miles behind the house.
I stood quietly listening to what was around me... A Bullfrog groaning a few yards up and across the small creek from me. Two Mocking Birds, one close by the other just within ear shot battling with each other to prove their serenade of calls out matched the others....
With a deep breath and a big smile, I cast my first line and relaxed to enjoy my day.
Those kind of days have been gone for a long time.
But the other day... in the back of a garage sitting in a corner sat an old Rod and Reel. I looked closer and smiled. It was an old Zebco 33... and attached to the end of the rod was a very old worn out plastic worm... I picked it up, pressed its release button and the worm dropped immediately to the floor... I turned the reels crank and the sound of a long time forgotten "click, click, click" was music to my ears....
The price tag said $10.00... You know me, I talked them down to $5.00...
It's time again....
I can remember slipping out the back door, quietly shutting it behind me so to not wake the house. I would stop at the pasture gate, looking back to make sure Mom and Dads bedside lamp had not come on. With that done I knew that my coast was clear. It was a Saturday morning and that meant the day was mine.
I would gather up my equipment which set waiting for me inside the small hay shack along the back fence. There I would dress for my day of independence.
First was the small tackle box attached to a piece of hay twine that hung off my left shoulder across the chest and settle in its place at my right waist.
My trusty Zebco 33 reel and rod would then be slung across my chest from over the other shoulder with usually a rubber worm on the tip of the rod which was my pennant of freedom.
The small single shot 410 shot gun found its place cradled in my right arm leaving my left hand available for gate chains, the middle strand of the barbed wire fences and to snatch the spider's dew covered webs from my face that had been spun between the Johnson Grass weeds during the night.
By the time the sun had made it as high as a thumbnail at the end of an extended arm I would be in place at the creeks bank 2 miles behind the house.
I stood quietly listening to what was around me... A Bullfrog groaning a few yards up and across the small creek from me. Two Mocking Birds, one close by the other just within ear shot battling with each other to prove their serenade of calls out matched the others....
With a deep breath and a big smile, I cast my first line and relaxed to enjoy my day.
Those kind of days have been gone for a long time.
But the other day... in the back of a garage sitting in a corner sat an old Rod and Reel. I looked closer and smiled. It was an old Zebco 33... and attached to the end of the rod was a very old worn out plastic worm... I picked it up, pressed its release button and the worm dropped immediately to the floor... I turned the reels crank and the sound of a long time forgotten "click, click, click" was music to my ears....
The price tag said $10.00... You know me, I talked them down to $5.00...
It's time again....
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