I hate winter. As far as I’m concerned Winter has no place in my perspective of a, “It’s the most wonderful time, yes the most wonderful time, it’s the most wonderful time of the yeeeeaaarrrr!” Sorry, that was a poorly typed out rendition of Andy Williams singing his Winter classic. OBVIOUSLY, Andy Williams or the writer of that song were not fishermen, or at least not fishermen who get even remotely excited about bundling up like Eskimos, trudging out on a frozen lake, drilling holes in the ice, and dropping a line through them. Sorry, no disrespect to those folks who do such things. I just happen to be one who doesn’t.
I’ll be the first to say that in my younger day while fishing for salmon and steelhead I cheerfully trudge across frozen river rock and stood in streams with anchor ice floating by without giving it a thought. But finally my aging body screamed, “Enough is enough!” I don’t know. Maybe that’s why so many old farts move to Arizona or Florida. But, for me who loves to fish for bass, Arizona has an obvious lack of lakes to fish in, and Florida has creatures swimming in their waters that can either give me a life-threatening bite, or, worse yet, eat me. So I think I’ll just grow old here in Washington State, thank you. But that doesn’t mean I have to enjoy our Winters.
For me Winter brings on…not a depression, but more like a funk. When the cold winds of late October, early November come, and trees begin dropping their leaves, revealing their skeletal interior, that is not something I consider a mentally uplifting time of the year. Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas, though enthusiastically played out, do not hold a candle to seeing the first Swallows of Spring sweeping through the blue skies, hearing that first warble of a Spring bird in the morning, and seeing green buds springing to life on the skeletal limbs that a week or two before seemed so bare and lifeless. But, thankfully, it is now once again Spring.
I am now entering my 68th Spring. And I would be a fool not to admit that I am a whole hell of a lot closer to the end of my Springs than the beginning. So I will end this post by saying this: “Dear Lord, forgive me for grumbling about Winter. I know that they are just as much a part of my time on this earth as the other seasons. I just happen to be a fisherman who appreciates every season but that one. So Lord while contemplating my grumblings, please remember that some of Your disciples were fishermen. And I would like to think that was not by accident. I know that was a cheap excuse, but I am sorry. That was the best I could come up with. AMEN!