Tame
the Beast---enjoy…the Show!
“When you swing the line out, son, try
to let it fall gently into the water;
that might take away the “plop” of the cork which could chase the crappie off
our bed.” Dad offered his young ward.
Silver-diamonds sparkled on the lake
surface and gently beat a cadenced-rhythm against the flat bow of the anchored
boat as dad and son enjoyed an afternoon of crappie fishing. The boy, a white
“taw”-head of ten sat in the seat nearest the front of the little rowboat while
dad manned the oars keeping the bobbing craft just off the submerged cedar tree
bed where the crappie spawned. He and the boy had brought their Christmas tree,
along with four other co-opted used ornament and light decoration, now bare of
the adornments, to the clubhouse back in deep, cold January. They had wired the
discarded trees together in one large “heap” once they had dragged them onto
the then-frozen lake ice; securing the jumble into one huge package, dad had
brought a half-dozen concrete blocks along to anchor the trees to the bottom
for a “crappie-bed” where they now fished during the spawning season.
Wiring the heavy blocks to the mound of
dead trees, dad carefully aligned the debris with land marks on the shore from
two “benchmark” points about twenty feet out so that, once spring visited and
the ice melted, causing the tree “fish-bed” to sink, the exact spot where the
“shelter” lay submerged could be located, thus, resulting in easy
crappie-catches on early fishing-trips.
(Part 2 of 2 Tomorrow)
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