Catch and Release
Andrew Roberts

One Image that is burned into my mind is my dad sitting in a folding lawn chair with a coke in one hand and a fishing poll in another. He loved to fish and wanted to pass that love on to me so much he bought me a new rod every time I dropped one in the lake, and he always held the fish when I was too afraid to touch it. Out of all the experiences that I have gone through out by the lake the first time with a fish poll in my hand is by far the one that stands out in my mind the most.           

After going through the experience of getting up extremely early, then having to get your pole and prepare for a long day out by the water; it is the very mellow anticipation for sometimes one tiny fish that makes the day worth wild. There is nothing like the feeling of the calm soft morning breeze brushing across the brim of your nose. Then slowly watching the sun climb up from behind the hill and turn the water every breath taking shade possible. For a brief second though you break the silence with a light plop sound that sends tiny ripples fading away fast them you could count them. The events to follow are not to be at all called extremely exciting, but can still sooth even the roughest soul.         

At such a young age I could not really appreciate all of this to a full extent. I could only be happy to be around family and to just be fishing, so that’s what I did. I fished to my best ability and spent quality time with my dad. It was kind of hard watching him pull one fish after another up and my poll sitting still with not a millimeter of movement. I sat and stared for what seemed like forever and just when I gave up hope the poll twitch. Well, to be honest it jerked out of my hand, but thankfully my dad caught it and gave it back to me. I struggled to reel a fish in that seemed to weigh fifty pounds and had the strength of a full grown man. It was an epic battle in my mind and one I had to win. After about ten minutes of my face turning red and not a breath coming out of my lips my dad was about to help me out till I gave it one mighty tug that swung the momentum my way. My dad pulled the line and the fish onto the top of the deck. He asked me to try to get the hook out of its mouth but I shook my head and yelled out no, my fear of fish was not gone and would stay for a while. He smiled and finished the task for me, and then he turned to me and said congratulations on your first fish.

It’s kind of amazing when you spend some time talking about a certain event and then the best part comes at the end like a traditional story and really means a lot to you. It caps the story of in a certain way that puts it all together. That moment came when my dad and I were walking up the stairs to the cabin. He looked down at me and asked me if I would have eaten the fish. I replied back a very strong no. he then told me what a lot of parents tell there kids. He told me to never take more then I intended to eat and always be willing to throw back something that could help someone else. This little trivial comment to other people helped me a lot in life and I would always apply it to where ever it would make sense in my adventures. Little things like that helped shape who I am and fishing trips like that give me them stories to tell my kids and let them make memories. I would always let them know it is ok to catch and release.