One such seed is here. An accident; I googled "the average steelheader" and saw a date. 2016. My kids went from saplings to young trees in that time. Taller than their mother, they are catching up to me; or are we coming down to them? Probably both.
But it's a gap, no doubt. A little ironic négligence, disrespect toward a space where I often meditated and cast a mirror back on myself, my adventures, and this passion of mine for everything steelhead. In a way, then, a disregard for that passion. Yes, I am busy - very - but discipline demands an outlet, permits it, encourages it, makes it mandatory.
Thankfully, it's s short time too. Three years or thirteen, or thirty. Yes, in the enormity of time, they're worth the same. But also in the power of an enduring passion. Love's not time's fool. The blog is like an old friend sitting here, waiting for me. A warm fire in the hearth; cold beer on the armrest. Soft creaking of La-Z-Boys as we reminisce.
Did I choose the wrong morning to spend the lone hour I had to fish, this week? Yes - but what else is here, now? Dishpans in the shallow water will hold hungry trout when the flows rise later; crowded beaches tell me where I can save time, too. Visit elsewhere. What is the wind saying? How is the Lake answering? I can watch, and reflect, and learn from this wide open book of Nature that is always unfolding its cryptic, deeply rewarding lessons.
Reality check: I don't know how many opportunities I'll have. The usual, I suppose. An hour here, two hours there; perchance a day, a whole day - but other forces than Nature will move that calendar and shape the dates. So who knows what the future holds. Regardless, for the next month or so, it's time... To quote the great William Yeats, from "A Dialogue of Self and Soul" :
I am content to follow to its source
Every event in action or in thought;
Measure the lot; forgive myself the lot!
When such as I cast out remorse
So great a sweetness flows into the breast
We must laugh and we must sing,
We are blest by everything,
Everything we look upon is blest.