Christmas Is.
Christmas Is.

Ah, a year ago I was feeling relaxed heading into Thanksgiving and giddy with anticipation for my planned trip-adventure for me-to Christmas Island. A lightning fast year has eased by, again reminding me of life’s fleeting journey and the resultant prompt to get busy and get out there. There is a gnawing irritant in you when you reach a certain age. Not just the urge to fish when you are young and the need to attain ‘the moment’, no this is more of a calculation that time is passing by too fast, and there are so many non-fishing duties (life for good or bad) and how will I get out there with the remaining years of health I possess? It is not a morose thought process, more like anxiety of organizing and prioritizing against life’s demands to get more done on the water…for me. Is that confusing? I think if you are on the other side of 60, you understand.

So, no warmth, no warm wind, no blinding light, no depth perception from never ending sky and the odd gradient of the flat. I was fortuanate to enjoy that trip. Pretty extravagant for me. This Winter, I will venture forth to cold, freezing mornings on rivers. Spey rod techniques will be in the forefront. Damn cold fingers, frozen snot and pre-hypothermic stumbling will mark the day. Geez that sounds fun. I need to hold that chrome bright muscled steelhead that I have worked so hard for. Time is fleeting.

Steelhead by John Bavaro
Steelhead by John Bavaro