The Fisherman

Sit here with me and watch this man cast his line, in a rhythm unique only to him, in a boat of his own sipping on a drink only his lips will enjoy. A couple flicks of the wrist catch him whatever he needs. A sense of satisfaction so hard for me to describe, I couldn’t tell you why he goes out day by day. From 86° to below freezing, he’ll be out there. Happy to share, happy to show everyone he knows what he caught when he comes home.

Every morning he leaves his troubles on the shore, watching the birds fly away as they do. He takes a deep breath and unwinds yesterday by smelling the crisp breeze off the mountainside. It’s easy to be happy with a sip of whiskey and a full belly, waiting for the day's catch to come. So when he came ashore, I asked the old dog how old he was, but he told me he forgot. So I asked him, “What’s the hardest part of your day?” and he said, “Watching the sun go down”.