Saturday, April 21, 2007

Brooks Of The Past To Books Of The Present


As I was driving along route 16 heading towards Colchester CT. this morning, I passed a large group of anglers fishing in The Salmon River. I was continuing on my way, when something compelled me to turn around and go back for a closer look.

Today was opening day of fishing season. I looked down and watched the fishermen standing under the 173 year old
Comstock Bridge. They were casting bait and lures in hopes of catching a trout. I was struck by the beauty of the moment. The crystal clear river flowed beneath this historic covered bridge. I could see steam rising off the water where the sun shown down upon it. Two Eastern Phoebes flew from tree to tree perching on different branches along the bank.

I started to daydream a little. I wondered what this very scene would have looked like a hundred years ago. I thought to myself, It couldn't have looked much different. The bridge would have looked similar as would the river itself. The fishermen probably would have been dressed differently and using long fly rods.

A feeling of sadness came over me. I had fished this very river on opening day for the last time over 20 years ago. It had been a tradition to camp out next to the river the night before opening day of fishing season. We had done this every year for many years. It was all about friends, food, celebration and waking up to a promising day of fishing. Who would catch the most?-or the biggest?

Those special times are now only a memory. I could still go fishing here on opening day, but it wouldn't be the same. Things have change. I have changed. Most of the friends I knew back then then have moved on with their lives. Some have died, some have relocated, and some I've just lost touch with over the years. I wish I could go back in time back and relive some of those moments.

Years pass by me-
like a distant dream-
I watch my memories-
drifting down the stream-
Just when I catch a glimpse of them-
they disappear around the bend-
LN

I remembered that I had to be somewhere. When I checked the time, I was surprised to see that I had only been standing there for a minute or two. Does time slow down when you're dreaming or does it just seem that way?

9 comments:

Jayne said...

That is a very beautiful image Larry. And yes, I suppose time does stand still when we are visiting other places and times in our minds.

Cathy said...

Larry -

This is beautiful and touching. The lines of poetry are poignant and I'm wondering if you wrote them as they are so perfect for this narrative. This lovely piece raised so many questions as any good writing does. Questions about your friends and what untimely end could have befallen one so young. I'm so glad you shared these thoughtful moments with us.

Cathy said...

Ah, I see. This is why we need the healing beauty of Nature and associations with others. It helps soften the passage of time.

If your contact with this blogger helped inspire those lines - I am pleased beyond saying.

Larry said...

Sorry- I deleted my last post.-I had second thoughts about posting too much information. Yes Cathy, your posts were inspirational as well as some posts from other blogs I often read.

Body Soul Spirit said...

Lovely picture and poignantly beautiful post.
Ruth

Larry said...

Jayne and Ruth-thanks-This is not my sort of thing but some times just hit you unexpectedly.

Betsy True said...

Beautiful pic and wonderful blog entry--very thought provoking!

Larry said...

-Thanks Betsy.

Patrice said...

Beautiful, Larry. Does time slow down when you're dreaming? I think so. I hope so.