It started with Lukas, my ten-year-old son. He caught the fishing fever. Bad. Then it hit his Dad, my wilderness-mountain-man-husband Steve, because he had to keep up with his fish-obsessed son. Our twelve-year-old son Kai is kind of into fishing, but not as whole-heartedly and obsessively as the other menfolk in our family.
They keep bringing home salmon from their fishing excursions, which I either make into a delicious dinner, smothered in olive oil and garlic, or Steve transforms into heavenly smoked salmon.
One day, I tagged along with Kai and Luke and got curious. I threw the fishing line in a few times, dreamily admiring the scenery. Then a fish bit the lure. Fish on!!! What a rush! I shrieked for help, and Lukas sprinted to my side, coaching me on exactly what to do. When I landed the beautiful fish, Luke asked me if I wanted to kill it. It somehow felt important that I did. When it was over, I cried. Both my sons fell into my arms, held me and reassured me what a great job I did.
So why do I fish? Yes, it's great to provide fresh meat for dinner. Yes, it's wonderful to breathe fresh air by a wild and scenic river. But really? I fish so I can spend time with my sons, to let them mentor me in a craft I don't know much about, to feel their arms around me when I succeed, to hear them cheer me on and encourage me. I love these boys of mine. And yes, I love the salmon, too.
|Lukas, the master fisherman|
|Kai with a big one|
|Steve with his huge silver salmon|
The scenery, as I already mentioned, is breathtaking around here. There is early morning mist, there are spring-like downpours drenching us and sun heating us up minutes later, there are rainbows blessing our hunt for salmon, and there's little Eva, bless her heart, patiently playing in the sand while the rest of the family fishes.
I keep winking at the boys as we reel in our fishing lines, telling them, "You could be sitting in school right now." They roll their eyes at me, but I know they are grateful NOT to be sitting in school right now.
We did start up our homeschooling schedule, though. They have to do formal schoolwork for about three hours in the morning (unless we are fishing, ahem, then they have to do school work in the afternoon).
Let me leave you with a heart full of gratitude for Mother Nature. How blessed we are to live in the boonies.