Gabriel thought for a minute. “Well, I’ve been fishing only once and I loved it.” The third full sentence from page 83 of The River by Michael Neale
I have been fishing more than once, and I do love it. I love it because my husband loves it. I love it when he and one of the boys go in the early morning or late evening. I love fishing for the big-fish stories, the no-fish stories, and the too-many-to-count-fish stories. We fish lakes and rivers, and there is always something to learn and see. Once, we fished while loons swam underwater trying to catch the fish before they could swallow our worms. I have landed Largemouth Bass, Smallmouth Bass, Pumpkinseed, Bluegill, and Walleye. I have caught more Northern Pike than I wanted, and I am not above asking a complete stranger to take one off my hook. One son still holds the family record for catching a Bowfin. Another’s catch broke the family’s favorite rod in half. I have braved November’s first ice, and I have basked in–more often shivered through–May’s fishing opener. I am already looking forward to next year’s fish tales.
P.S. I also look forward to reading The River!