We reached our destination in Maine for our father & son fishing trip well after dark. As we drove past tiny hamlets in this desolate area, I understood how Stephen King has been able to gather ideas for his novels from here. Perhaps one of the towns we had passed was inspiration for ‘Salem’s Lot. In the morning, we met our river guide: Kate, and we immediately felt confident she would provide us with a good day of fishing.
The day was overcast, however, the day’s lighting reflecting off the river, gave the autumn leaves a brilliant hue. As I drank in the majestic view of Mt. Washington in the distance, I noticed ominous cloud cover approaching us indicating a change of weather would be upon us. In addition, I spied an eagle circling the river searching for prey. I marveled at the stoic beauty of this bird, the symbol of the United States.
For up in the sky the eagle circled silently, effortlessly, and determinedly, uncaring of us, focused only on its quest for the prey. Just as we had left the city escaping the concerns of the worlds financial, military, and cultural strife’s, in search of some memorable autumn fly-fishing. As Kate expertly navigated the drift boat down the river, just as the eagle spots its prey, I viewed an enormous red maple spreading its branches like an umbrella over the water, directly over a drop off in the river. I instinctively realized that I only had seconds to present a cast before our drift boat would silently glide past this inviting spot.
As I released the cast, amazingly, it actually landed where I had hoped. As the eagle grips its prey with its talons, I felt a fish strike the fly, and I firmly set the hook in its mouth. From the feel of the rod I knew I had a good-sized fish on the line trying not to be pulled to the surface and into the awaiting net. Kate scooped a beautiful rainbow trout into the net and onto the boat. The rainbow’s colors blended splendidly with the spectacular colors of the Maine woods.
Unlike the eagle, which would share its prey with its young; the rainbow was released back into the river allowing it to grow. Perhaps, another father and son may again land it on their fishing trip. Kate eased the drift boat to shore, where she prepared delicious hearty soup of fiddleheads’, potatoes, and sausage for all of us to share. The meal was perfect, as the weather had turned cooler. As we sat enjoying the meal, we admired the scenery, listened to the hypnotic sound of the river, and prepared for the final hours of our trip.
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