Mucking out the hay that Daisy Mae (the milk-less milk cow) has soiled with her poo and pee to be used as mulch in my wild, untamed no-till garden until the brightness of this sunny day drives me away to the cool, dampness of the swamp. Ken (hubby) helps me gather some fishing gear…extra fishing line, sinkers, hooks, corks, and a fish stringer. My 12’ retractable pole has been residing in my car since last summer. Then I dig around in one of the worm beds for a few red wigglers. “I won’t need many.” I tell him, since I just need to catch enough for me.
Roscoe, the blue heeler, and Ruby, the red heeler (farm dogs), enthusiastically jumped into the Outback for the one mile trip down to the ‘Hoopee. Back in the day, they would’ve walked from here to there and back again and when I was a teenager, I would have ridden my bike, however, due to the ever increasing truck traffic on our small state highway, this is no longer a possibility. I’m beginning to understand why daddy tried to dig up the asphalt they laid when he was a young boy and lived here.
Once we arrive down at our ‘Hoopee swamp sanctuary, I throw my fishing gear back pack on, grab my pole, a blue camp chair, and the machete. The river has fallen quickly but I’m still unable to access my little fishing hole from the old bridge road, so I will have to cut a new trail closer to the new bridge. So many trees have fallen from last year’s Hurricane Idalia, this isn’t an easy task. I managed to cut a meandering trail deep into the swamp. The swamp mud is black and slick, but we reach our destination amid a cloud of whining mosquitoes.
I set my chair and pack down, take the dogs over to a low spot where they can wade in, cool off, and drink some water. My fishing spot is along the bank, not a bluff which is higher and looks down upon the river. A bank sits just above the river and this was always my Granny’s favorite way to fish in the river. Sitting in one spot, watching the birds and her cork. It is a very meditative experience.
I extract my pole to its full length then bait my hook with one of the bigger red wiggler worms, running it up the shaft of the hook like a sock. Then I grab the sinker, which is just a few inches above the hook, pull back my line and sling-shot it out into the water to avoid entanglement in the bushes around me. The water is murky and muddy like chocolate milk. My cork is orange and easily visible on its surface. I’ve pushed the cork almost four feet up on my line so that my bait will dangle deeply in the water or even on the bottom. I could probably remove it completely because the river is still a wee bit full and it’s best to fish on the bottom when it’s in this condition, but this isn’t a removable cork like Granny used to use. She was old school. She had corks that were real cork wood and she would split them down the middle to run her line through, then use black electrical tape to keep them on her line. I’ll just have to do the best I can with the equipment I brought.
It’s not long before I’m “getting a bite”. My cork is bobbing, Ruby is excited and watching it with me and then it’s under. I give my pole a little jerk and the hook is set, and I pull in a fat four finger-sized bream. These are my favorite eating size. I hurriedly remove him and put him on my fish stringer which I throw out into the water at the low place below me. My bait is still in good shape, so I sling-shot it back out there, and within a few minutes I’m pulling in another about the same size. “Wow, I’ve caught two fish with one bait!”, I exclaim to the puppers.
Then things started to slow down and there was time for bird watching and listening. Warblers, titmice, wrens, and cardinals were singing. We watched a graceful white great egret stalk his prey in the shallows on the other side of the bridge. A pair of kingfishers decided to put on an aerial show for us as they chattered about how many more fish they were catching than I was. They spent the rest of the afternoon with us.
After four hours and a fine mess of five fish, the last of which being a fat catfish, which I wasn’t prepared for because I had no needle nose pliers to remove it, we packed up and went back up the road to the farm where Ken helped me clean them, much to his chagrin, because he said “The river is too full and muddy to catch anything.” Tell that to the kingfishers!
I fried them up for my supper and ate them with some cornbread and Ken’s home-grown sweet onions. Such a simple, delicious meal. When I was growing up, we ate this meal at least four or five times a week. It makes me sad to know that the Georgia Department of Natural Resources now recommends we eat no more than one fish meal a week from the river due to the accumulation of arsenic, PCBs, methylmercury, chlordane, toxaphene, and dieldrin in the rivers sediment from the use of agricultural chemicals over 50 years ago. I often wonder if this is why so many of my family members died from cancer. Will it take another 50 years for them to admit the adverse effects of the chemicals they use in agriculture and home gardens now?
What Does Seeing a Kingfisher Indicate?
Primarily, it is seen as a harbinger of good fortune and prosperity. In many cultures, the Kingfisher is believed to be a lucky charm, indicating that a period of calmness and abundance is on the horizon.
Moreover, the Kingfisher is often seen as a symbol of love and lasting relationships.
Its habit of mating for life makes it a natural emblem of loyalty and fidelity.
Encountering this bird could be a sign to cherish and nurture your relationships, or it might be a hint that a new, meaningful connection is about to unfold in your life.
In the realm of personal growth, the Kingfisher encourages individuals to dive deep into their emotions and thoughts.
It symbolizes the need for introspection and the importance of being in touch with one’s innermost feelings.
The Kingfisher’s adeptness at diving into the water for its prey is metaphorically seen as diving into the subconscious to bring hidden truths to the surface.
The Kingfisher’s sudden appearance can be interpreted as a wake-up call, urging you to pay attention to the world around you and the spiritual messages it conveys.
Its bright colors and agile flight symbolize optimism and the ability to navigate life’s waters with grace and agility.
For many, seeing this bird is a reminder to remain vibrant and adaptable in the face of life’s challenges.
I hope you enjoyed this journey to the fishing hole with me. May your week be full of peaceful introspection which allows you to notice the daily synchronicities of life. Be sure to write some of them down for future generations.
Blessings to you all!
💜B💜
So peaceful. I loved everything about this.
Voice. Sorry, didn’t have my glasses on!!