Thursday, July 7, 2011

My Uncle Bill - More Memories

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Uncle Bill on the left, me, my stepfather, Norman

  I spent my early growing up years until I was 12 in a little town where most of my extended family lived.  One of the important people in my life there was my Uncle Bill.  He was the person who taught me much about one aspect of the outdoors; he was a fisherman, and until he died, he fished as much as possible, and was a mentor to others because of this expertise.  I didn’t become an expert with him, but in my earlier years loved getting up in the early mornings to go out with him in his bass boat, drinking up the quiet of a lake, and marveling at the sounds I heard as it woke up with the sun.  Before sunrise, there are small murmurings if you listen hard, of birds and frogs beginning to stir, readying for the day of food searching.  They rustle; yet don’t seem to fly or jump yet.  Birds chirp, but in lower tones than usual.   As the boat with the lowest motor sound cut through the water, sometimes I saw taller water birds at the edges of the lake stretching their necks up, perhaps to check out the scene, or to look for water bumps-fish, which meant dinner.  I don’t believe I learned much about fishing from my Uncle Bill, but I did learn patience for observation and a respect for the beauty of the outdoors. 

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