There are places I have been – discovered on road trips, revealed during journeys of other kinds and places revisited many times because their beckoning – that I consider sacred because of a particular feeling they evoke.  The kind of places where I am overwhelmed by the awareness of the peace of God which passes all understanding.  Such is the stuff of a trout stream.

There are many facets involved in the lure of a trout stream.  The preparation for the trip sparks the anticipation – the decisions of where and when, gathering of the gear, the musings over weather forecasts and, of course, the trip itself.  Trout streams are not normally located (unless you are very fortunate) in one’s back yard.  The drive, especially as the destination nears, is fueled by eager expectation.

I arrive and WOW, there it is.  It might be a fairly wide expanse of water, rippled and rushed by a relentless current, or a narrow, meandering stream that flows so slowly I must study the water carefully to determine which way it is going.  Whatever.  As I am a complete novice at all this, getting into my gear requires patience, balance and the ability to be amused when my net (attached to the back of my vest via magnets and bungee cords) insists on being everywhere except where it belongs.  Trying to act as though I’ve done this hundreds of times, checking several times to be absolutely certain my keys are secured in my vest before locking up, I carefully walk away from my van, rather clumsy in my size 10 boots.  Streamside, I scout for likely trout habitat – a log, a partially submerged windfall or a bend in the stream where the current is not as strong, a deep pool downstream from a rapids or a small waterfall, a cozy cover created by an overhanging rock or cliff – so many possibilities!

As I step carefully into the stream, scanning for slippery spots, amking certain one boot is firmly planted before lifting the other (a tumble would not only be uncool, it would spook the fish and that would be that), the sense of freedom, the appreciation of the privilege to leave shore and be one with the water begins.  As the water deepens I feel its coolness through my waders.  Oh yeah, this is GREAT.  Decision time.  Wet or dry fly?  Are he trout rising?  hiding?  Hungry?  Sometimes I can see them, positioned facing upstream, waiting.  What will it take to interest them, to have them at least look at my offering?  The fluid repetition of the cast.  the muttering when the fly does not end up where intended and gets caught and tangled elsewhere.  It’s all part of the fly fishing experience.

Having a trout take my fly, get hooked, struggle as I carefully and slowly reel it in, the netting (a procedure that, at this point in my fly fishing career, remains a total mystery to me), the landing and, finally, the removal of the hook and gentle release back into the stream – a period when time stands still and leaves me momentarily suspended in a state of awe sufficient to fuel memories for a long, long time.  Cool as this may be, I can be perfectly content just wading in the water in a serene and peaceful place, anticipating what lies around the next end.  That, for me, is the essence of the lure of a trout stream.

Posted by a participant:  “People who pray for miracles usually don’t get miracles, but people who pray for courage, for strength to bear the unbearable, for the grace to remember what they left instead of what they have lost, very often find their prayers answered.  They discover that they have more strength, more courage than they ever knew themselves to have.  Where did they get it? I would like to think their prayers helped them find that strength.”  A quote by Harold Kushner.

With Reeling & Healing Midwest and everything in fishing I say Fish On!

“Life isn’t about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain”

“Be kinder than necessary because everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle”

Reeling & Healing Midwest

It was our first day on the Au Sable.  I was on shore, still in my waders, taking a break and doing some photography.  As I watched pairs of fishermen in this incredibly scenic setting, I was struck by an emotion so powerful I was moved to tears.  Try as I might, I could not put a name to it – still can’t.  Perhaps one day it will come to me – perhaps not.  I think it’s way beyond descriptors I know.  I do know that the first time I entered my room I walked straight through the other door.  Before me was the river.  The first thought that came to my mind was “This IS the peace of God which passes all understanding”.

So, you take a group of women and an equal number of fly fishermen, team up, and start fishing.  The healing – well, that just sort of happens.  Two people in the stream, on fly fishing rod, a few instructions and the novice, guided by the experienced, is joyously engaged in the art of fly fishing.  Up and down the stream – pairs of people, both of them giving and receiving, and the healing begins.  Sitting on shore you can see it, you are moved by it – the privilege of observing healing occurring right before your eyes.  How cool is that?

What a wonderful time I had on my retreat. I’m thrilled I was able to attend with my sister.  I have so many happy memories.  All of you who helped out did a fantastic job.  You made it so interesting and enjoyable.  THANK YOU SO MUCH  Fish On!  Joanne, Pompano Beach, FL