claiming our daze and our days on the prairie
i know i didn’t get it.
when i think of us “going fishing,”
i think of exploring the banks of the lake,
eating good food,
drinking cold drinks,
sitting under shade trees,
making a fairy garden,
all the while a pole leaning against a tree bobbing in the water.
we did go fishing.
we sat on a rocky pier.
in the sun.
there were rocks (plenty).
there was limited grass.
one weed flower plant.
no shade trees except those in the distance.
and none of that needed to matter…after all, we were there to FISH.
i got it.
and thankfully friends were along to eat good food,
hide from the sun,
drink cold drinks,
make pretend boats,
sneak into the pond,
pick that one weed flower,
play with the minnows,
and go home hoping we might catch a fish next time.
now i know to bring an umbrella,
my own wildflowers from home,
and a few extra cold drinks.
and jerry, bless his heart…he needs to get to go fishing alone.
then there wouldn’t be bait dumped in the beer chest (guess who).