nature, Uncategorized, Wyoming

Girls Who Fish

First Fishing Trip.jpg

It’s spring break and Wyokiddo and I are out playing while Outdoor Guy tends to the birds.  Today, she requested we go fishing, so mid-morning we loaded up her Mickey Mouse fishing pole and some worms and we headed out.

The fishing was slow, so Wyokiddo had time to ponder the esoteric.

“Mama, why are there only boys out here?”

I set down my rod and contemplated how to answer her question.  Occasionally we’d see a woman fishing in a boat with her husband.  But by and large, anytime we were out in the field, it was men, or boys with their dads.  Very few little girls, and never just a mom and her daughter.

“Well, some girls haven’t ever had anyone take them fishing,” I tried to explain.  “They might live in a city where there isn’t any place to fish, or no one has ever shown them how.   And some girls don’t want to fish.  They think it’s boring or dirty or gross, or that it’s something only boys should do.  They don’t know how much fun it can be!”

Wyokiddo was quiet after that, dividing her attention between her bobber in the water and the ladybug crawling up her arm.

Several minutes later, she looked up at me and squinted against the late morning sun.

“Mama, let’s always be the kind of girls who fish.”

From her lips to God’s ears.  No matter where life takes this beautiful little soul, may she always be one of the girls who fish.


family, nature, Uncategorized, writing

First Fish

Emily First Fish (1)Yesterday was a big day for the curly-haired dynamo.  She hauled in her very first fish, a small large-mouth bass caught at a reservoir just south of our house.  She was all smiles and high-fives for the rest of the morning.  She wouldn’t even take her eyes off the fish for a photo.

We’ve been fishing several times this summer as a family.  It is one of my favorite ways to spend a morning together.  The three of us, a quiet spot by the lake and fishing poles is a recipe for pure bliss.

Of course, our spot doesn’t stay quiet for long when Wyokiddo is in tow.  Armed with her red Mickey Mouse fishing pole and 1,000 questions, she’ll fish and chat her way through an entire morning.

“What kind of bird is that?”

“Do seagulls eat bananas?”

“Mama, I’m going to tell you a story.  One time, I took Uncle Bill fishing.  He had a blue fishing pole and I had a pink fishing pole.  And we caught a WHALE!”

We don’t catch a lot of fish.  This summer our total haul that we’ve kept has been a handful of crappie and two walleye.  But I wouldn’t trade these moments by the water for a freezer of fish.  I love that we are teaching Wyokiddo a skill and sharing this piece of our souls with her.  I enjoy watching Outdoor Guy patiently helping our daughter cast or bait her hook.  My heart overflows with love and emotion as Wyokiddo sits in my lap, chattering non-stop as we watch the red-and-white bobber rise and fall with the swell of the waves.  It feels good to be outside, together, released from electronic tethers and expectations.

The fact that Wyokiddo finally caught her a fish…well that’s just gravy.