Today I followed the advice of a friend after several days of turmoil and soul searching, and did what I knew I needed, what always cures what’s bothering me: I took off with my camera and spent some time outside, on a sunny Saturday in early February.
The sun was bright and cast interesting shadows on the grounds of Newburgh Pointe, where I ended up. There were several ice shanties on Newburgh Lake, a father and son fishing from one of them. I was on the other side of the peninsula where I was shooting cattails, from across the way, I heard him say: “You did it! You got your first bluegill, buddy!”
I smiled. I didn’t know them and wasn’t anywhere near them, but it was cool to witness a child’s first caught fish. My mind went back to the summer I was about 8, fishing with my Dad on Lake Erie. After sitting for a while in the hot sun, I felt a distinct tug on my line, and began reeling in as he had shown me. Reeling, pulling, reeling, pulling, reeling, pulling, SMACK! My last pull resulted in slamming my poor fish against the side of our aluminum boat. (Only me!) I still remember my Dad’s response: “Well, he’ll have a headache for a while..” My first fish. I can’t remember what kind, but I remember he was about four inches long, and we threw him back.
I got out into the sunshine today, captured a collection of photos to work with, and got to overhear the joy in a father/son moment. The little things, special moments, even if they are not yours. It was just what I needed.