Fishing and Dancing

Nothings more exhilarating than going deep sea fishing your your father. You dress all warm in layers and wear a wildly unbecoming beanie to keep your head warm. Fishing is not a fashion statement, it's an art; a dance if you will. My father taught me how to dance.

The key to fishing is having the right bait and lure for what you're wanting to catch, as well as, the strength and courage to cast your line into uncharted waters. Then you wait. You feel the oceans ebb and flow. Her melancholy, hypnotic rock; her rhythm. Your lost in her beauty as you wait. You feel a tug and your head pops back into the moment away from your thoughts. You hold the line and your eyes dart to you father. He keeps his eyes forward and says, "It's only a nibble." He's right, there's no heaving tug, there's no run only a momentary bob that makes your heart leap. So you sit back again being lulled by her rocking. You feel more nibbles, but are unimpressed. You notice around you others are sitting and staring out to sea. Then one of the men jumps excitedly to his feet. His line is taught and the struggle to keep his pole up has begun. He reels in then lets it run, reels it in then lets it run. The fisherman's eyes follow his line to where it meets the ocean waiting to see his prize leap from the depths below. He fights patiently and fiercely. Then, out of the water leaps the giant fish. Her scales glitter silver in the early morning light. This sparks more exuberance in the fisherman. He must have this fish; it's his prize to be sought; she will not get away. It's the dance. You turn your eyes back to your line watching, waiting, and wondering. Was that nibble my bite? My prize? My chance? Should I have pulled my line to snag her? Your father, as if reading your mind says, "Wait, you'll know." You take a deep breath and sit back. Once again feeling the ocean ease you back into her grace. Then when you feel your mind wander and your gaze drift she hits your line with fury and runs. All you hear is the "ZZZZ" of your line.

Have you ever asked a fisherman to tell you about his fishing trip? Any fisherman will become flushed when describing the big one. He will sit forward in his chair, lean towards you, and tell you every detail, every tug, every run, and every breath. Then he puts his arms out and states, "It was this big." He sits back and will smile as if he just caught it.

Ask a woman in love how she met the man of her dreams. She'll lean forward in her chair and become flushed. She'll tell you of every smile, every look, every line, and every laugh. She'd stand up, put her arms out and say, "I love him this much," as he walks into the room to her arms for an embrace. She sits back and will smile as if she just caught him.

You never hear about the nibbles, the one's that fed off the line than swam away. Only the one that was caught.