This morning I got a phone call from an old friend. He’d just stepped off a ship in Miami after spending the holidays in Belize. He noted he’d only hit the flats one morning, and only caught eight bonefish. Right about the time I started crying a river for this poor soul, he inquired as to where he might fish while in South Florida, with a notion to head for the Keys. With a nasty cold front right on top, I suggested he wait it out a day or two to see if things warm up, and at best make a run into Biscayne Bay for the spooks lurking in the channels.
Ok. Thanks Gracie. I’ll call you when I get home and tell you how it went.
You do that. Punk.
The pup has been banished to the perma-frosted backyard, as I don’t have the motivation for a walk just yet. I’m sitting at my desk guzzling black joe, and yet more tropical reminders stream in.
I head for the thermostat. Hit the “+” button a few times, and return to my chair. Look down. My feet are covered in…sandals. They’ve sat idle in my closet for at least two months. Why did I put them on this particular morning?
I peer over towards the bookshelf. A cup, now relegated to receipt bin, originally fabricated in the tropics some thirty-odd years ago, catches my eye. It has been within eyeshot for what seems like eternity, and I rarely give it a second thought. Why now I ask myself.
Friendly ghosts of the past? Subconscious yearning? Or signs of times to come?
MG signing off (to ponder that which is “…to be continued”)
Comments
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If you leave now, you can make it to fish the Salt River with Aaron and I tomorrow… 70+ degrees, a flask full of rum on the river, stockers with a shot at some nice largemouth…
…don’t hurt yourself running to your car.
-A
Don’t forget about the always dreaded bloggers fishing/camping expedition @ Long Key State Park April 11th – 16th. Come down and get your bonefish on…..
I’m even more confused now. The timing of Alex’s outing makes me think I was experiencing some sort of extra-sensory perception – that I knew such a venture was about to happen without actually being told beforehand (that, or Kyle’s back in Colorado farting up a storm, the wind’s blowing in my direction, and I made the connection with my nose).
Alternatively, Rob’s suggestion means fresh air.
If this “old friend” was [INITIALS REDACTED]. And I think it is. Please watch the upcoming primal fly blog about his subsequent arrest in [LOCATION REDACTED]. Through my many contacts and friends in FLA. I have actually obtained a copy of the arrest report. The post will be funny…to say the least.
Yes it was. At this point, I don’t know whether my advice not to hit the Keys was a good one, but some mugshots might make me forget the error of my ways.