The Fishing Bag…

Learning how to fish has been an experience and I am grateful to John for having patience and teaching me.   I do like fishing, but the one part of it that I keep saying I can’t get over is hurting the fish.  I still haven’t been able to and it generally takes all the fun out of it for me.  So I have decided to take a break from fishing for a while and go back to the way things were before.  Back to my original fishing bag, filled with pens and notebooks and whatnot.


My original yellow fishing bag, the one I got off the clearance rack and have been carrying for two years.  I am going to have to invest in another one, this one is now falling apart.  (books are heavy.)  Before I do I would like to point out this bag worked out really well for me.  Although yellow is not my usual color, it is easy to write on with sharpie markers, which I did.  Each new experience has recorded somehow on the bag.  Like the day John caught his striper at the canal…


I also have on of my favorites written on the back.  A poem by Shell Silverstein called Listen to the Mustn’ts.


So I am going back to simply enjoying nature.


7 thoughts on “The Fishing Bag…

  1. I had similar feelings about fishing as a kid; I caught fish, but my father wouldn’t let me eat them unless I cleaned them, which at the time, I couldn’t do. Later, a Native American man explained his philosophy on hunting and fishing; he told me that there is no difference between a blade of grass than any other life form; what you take to sustain yourself, you must give thanks for. So here’s a little poem for you;
    “When the meat I eat is the meat I kill, the meat I eat is sweeter still.” —Me.
    I don’t hunt or fish anymore, either, if it makes you feel better.

    Liked by 1 person

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