The answer is all around us
By By Debbie Young / Special to The Star
October 22, 2004
My faithful friend Otha Barham has asked all outdoorsmen what may be the ultimate question. "Why do we do it?" Why, indeed, do we get up at ridiculous hours and pack up ridiculous amounts of stuff that we've mortgaged our grandchildren's grandchildren to purchase in the first place? I, yes I, have the answer.
I found the answer quite by accident, on the banks of the Tenn-Tom Waterway on the edge of Tennessee just outside Iuka. I like to fish. Some of my earliest memories are of walking through the woods of Yazoo County carrying a cane pole, then catching crickets to hang on a hook and drop in a pond. Fishing from the bank is surely one of the featured activities in heaven. But I digress.
My family and I set up along the bank of the Tenn-Tom at various strategic locations. My restless husband never did light anywhere, but kept walking the bank and casting in a vain attempt to find the spot most likely to elicit a bite. I never did understand the logic of looking for one perfect spot in moving water, but again, I digress.
My spot
I picked a lovely spot on the bank close to the water's edge, on a rock with a nice comfortable flat spot on which to sit, and proceeded to cast. I am a real whiz at casting, by the way. Just ask me. I have even given short casting lessons to misguided female friends who previously thought that husbands were created to throw the hook in the water for them. I like to pick out a spot on the water and can usually hit it. I'm not good at much, but boy can I cast.
Just when I got into a nice rhythm, casting and reeling, my aforementioned husband worked past my spot. He tried in vain to tempt me to move along the bank with him, insisting that I would never catch anything where I was sitting. I told him, nicely of course, to get out of my personal fishing space, which he did. I went back to enjoying the peaceful rhythm of casting and reeling in.
A few minutes later, a little boy worked his way toward my spot. He had obviously taken my husband for a professional and was following suit. He got pretty close to me, and I was just about to give him his walking papers too, when all of a sudden he said "Hey, lady, look behind you." I couldn't imagine why he was talking to me.
Unwelcome warning
Then he said "Turn around slowly. See that snake?" I looked over my shoulder, and there he was, a nice-sized snake, one rock to the left and behind me. I looked him over briefly, then turned my head back toward the river and continued casting and reeling. The little boy persisted. "Aren't you going to get out of here?" I looked at him like he was crazy and told him to go away. I wasn't bothering the snake, and the snake wasn't bothering me. I was fishing.
That's when I found the answer. You see, fishing has nothing to do with catching fish. I never noticed the snake behind me because I was not impatiently looking around and fidgeting and thinking of finding a spot where more fish might bite. I was basking in the afternoon sun, which was glinting off the water in a most beautiful way. I could hear birds singing, many different varieties, many different songs. The crickets were singing backup. There were frogs in the trees adding to the symphony.
God was in his heaven and I was truly sitting in the perfect spot. The taking of fish, deer, turkey and the like are not the reason. There doesn't have to be a reason. Sitting in the perfect spot casting and reeling in is reason enough. Heck, catching fish at that perfect moment would have been an interruption.
You don't need a reason, Otha.
