Breath our scents, walk our landscape, hear our melodic dialects, delight in our savory morsels, touch each rich texture, and the southern essence remains a mystery. The ethereal south, unfathomable to the five senses, lives in the heart. If you believe in magic, and can survive the devastating passions of an open heart, just possibly, you stand a chance of living a moment as a southerner. Most people aren't brave enough to be southerners, even the ones that are.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Fish is an "F" Word


Just for clarity, let me say up front that today we are talking about fish the verb, as in fish, fishing, fished. For instance if you go fishing around, you may get more fish than you anticipated, like the guys in the picture. There are fishing jobs too. Some people have fishing jobs they really like. Some people have fishing jobs they hate. I suppose fishing is a lot like everything else in life, a lot of whether or not you enjoy fishing, depends on who you're fishing with. And I guess the experience can be colored by whether or not you catch anything; and what.

Sometimes the hectic pace of life and just life circumstances, prevent us from getting to fish at all. Some people just have an aversion to fishing and therefore intentionally don't fish at all. I love to fish, but haven't in a long time. I really do look forward to someday fishing again, and on a regular basis.

You know I don't think I want to write anymore about fishing. This is supposed to be just a short fun blog post, and suddenly it seems to be leading somewhere else, if it ever got off the ground to start with. Tomorrow is "G"word day. That shouldn't be as difficult for my muddled head.

Posted by Dread, who wonders how you call something an "F" word, illustrate it with a giant catfish, and then write about it with clarity, dignity, or respect for the reader. Some days you try to reach beyond yourself, and just don't quiet make it. That's the way it is here beneath the Carolina moon.

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