The Great Angler

Anyone who knows Frank reasonably well also knows that he's an avid angler and a very talented writer. He's so fond of both activities, that a few years back, he wrote a wonderful, humourous book called What Fish Don't Want You To Know, based on his years of fishing experience.

I never really thought I'd learn to enjoy fishing. It involves holding worms, hooking them and sometimes injecting air into them so they'll float above the sinker. That's gross - but if I wanted to get to know the pastime with which Frank is so enamoured, I had to put my squeamish side on hold and just do it.

Now, three summers later, I scarcely shudder when removing a worm from its styrofoam container. I can hook it with hardly a wince. And my stomach only flips, and stops short of a flop when I insert a needle and squeeze air into it to puff it up a tad. It's a pleasure to be out on the boat watching loons float by. I enjoy feeling the sun on my skin and the breeze on my face. I get a kick out of feeling that tug on the end of the line and reeling in a fish sometimes occasionally rarely if I'm lucky. And if the day works out right, it's such a thrill to see the sunset on our way back to shore.

Frank's passion for fishing was not passed along to his sons. Oh they'll fish, much like I will - probably far more intuitively than I do but they don't live and breathe it the way their father has for all of his life. Fortunately, there is yet another family member who appears to be developing a love for the sport.

This video was taken shortly before we left to go up to the cottage last week. There's a creek across the road from Frank's place, and that's where he generally walks Benny twice a day. At this time of the year, salmon are swimming upstream to spawn. They make an impressive sight.

Frank doesn't fish for salmon - but others do...

I'll have some photos for you in a few days.

Along the Way

“I don't see much sense in that," said Rabbit. "No," said Pooh humbly, "there isn't. But there was going to be when I began it. It's just that something happened to it along the way.”

Sometime in May, Frank and I stepped up our walking schedule a bit. In addition to our two or three daily walks around the lake with Benny, we opted to indulge in a doggie-free stroll early each evening.

On the Friday, we had barely made our way into the park when this cute little critter caught our attention.


I wondered if it might be the same bunny I've seen regularly in my back yard, as it was certainly around the same size - small. I suppose there's a reason why rabbits procreate at breakneck speed. I think it might partly be to make up for the fact that they're not the brightest of creatures. Where would the bunny population be if they didn't multiply... well.. like rabbits? This little guy watched me, and happily munched on dandelion stems as I advanced toward him with my camera.



From ahead of us along the pathway, two young men approached. One was openly drinking beer. Neither were sober. His buddy caught sight of the rabbit and announced that he was going to catch it so he could cook it. Even intoxicated, it wouldn't have been overly difficult to make physical contact with this seemingly-tame animal, and I didn't want to walk away from the situation, lest he make good on his intention to do it harm.

As L (his friend had referred to him by name) approached the bunny, I spoke to him. Irritation showed in my voice when I strongly suggested that he leave the creature be. He was not to be deterred though, and proceeded to pursue it, knocking a (thankfully empty) bird's nest from the low branch of a pine tree, and clumsily sweeping it aside.



This indiscriminate lack of respect for nature irked me greatly, and it showed in my tone of voice. My volume increased in intensity.

Frank tried to speak to L. He pointed out that it wasn't much of a manly hunt to go after a baby bunny, but the fellow's machismo was in full stride and Frank's attempt at reasoning was met with some choice words from both of the young guys.

The friend who remained on the walking path suggested that we mind our own business - that they were doing nothing wrong. Frank pointed out that they were indeed doing plenty wrong, beginning with an open bottle of beer in a public place. Showing zero respect for his environment, the guy responded with "What beer?" as he flung the bottle into the nearby pond.

Frank is a big man, with a deep, (and if he chooses - booming) voice. They were feeling intimidated, but the alcohol bolstered their pride and they continued to argue with us over the fate of the bunny, and of their rights.

I decided to take a picture of both guys. L took great offense to that and expressed it loudly. He felt that I was now doing something illegal, and perhaps I was, but I continued to snap a shot or two of him on his cell phone while he called the police to complain about someone taking his photograph in the park.

His friend was getting quite agitated by now, and implored L to leave with him. Eventually, they did just that, and the bunny was left to munch on its dandelion stems.

Frank and I continued our walk around the park. We discussed what happened. Neither of us felt good about it. We had all behaved rather poorly and wished that we could have handled it better. In retrospect, L was unlikely to really hurt the rabbit. He was simply showing off and couldn't back down - pride being what it is. While Frank was speaking to him at close range, he had a bit of insight as to just how young and vulnerable L really was. He'd said to Frank "You're not my father, and I don't have to listen to you." It was revealing. Both boys remained on our minds much of the evening and into the next day.

On Saturday, around the same time of day, I was feeling antsy. We had just been for a walk about an hour earlier but I wanted to walk again. Frank gave me one of his tolerant smiles and almost indiscernible eye-rolls, and joined me. We stopped at some point along the path to observe a Grackle primp and preen after its bath in a nearby puddle.



Its colours were beautiful in the late day sunshine, and we stood there for about five minutes just watching. Frank motioned to look behind me and I turned to see two adult rabbits grazing in the grass nearby.



They seemed to appear out of nowhere. Surely they hadn't been there when we trudged over to this spot - they would have easily been visible. We watched as they nibbled on grass, and we continued our walk when they moved along.

"It almost seems like some kind of a message."

I had to agree with Frank's thinking. Both of our thoughts turned to L and his buddy, and the rabbit they pursued the evening before.

We continued walking, and as we approached the dock, we notice a man fishing. Anyone who fishes has an automatic spot reserved in Frank's heart, and he called out to him, asking if he'd had any success. As the man responded, we noticed that his younger fishing partner was L. In his hands was an empty plastic pop bottle with line wrapped around it, which served as his fishing rod. It was about as rudimentary as one could be. Frank's face lit up when he saw him.

"L, I'm glad to see you fishing!"

L's eyes were devoid of the anger that flashed from them the day before, and he immediately held his hand out to Frank, and apologized for his earlier behaviour. He looked each of us in the eye and said that he really wasn't going to kill the rabbit. Frank's smile reflected my own has he happily shook L's outstretched hand, and told him that he knew that in his heart. I told L that I was happy to see him and he asked me why. I explained that I hadn't felt good about our encounter the day before and he said that he hadn't either. I wanted to hug him at that moment, but I held my own hand out to him and he shook it warmly, apologizing once again.

Frank spoke to him briefly about fishing, and told him that he'd like to give him a copy of his book, What Fish Don't Want You To Know. L seemed just a bit wary, declining to share his email address in order to make arrangements to meet up again, so Frank told him that he'd bring a copy down with him the following weekend so that he'd be able to give it to him next time we encounter him in the park. We parted with a smile this time.

We can't help but feel that there's a reason that L barged into our lives the way he did, and time will tell just what it is. He was a good person having a bad day. A caring heart just showing off for his buddy. A kid who knew he'd done wrong, and took the responsibility to apologize like a man.

I suspect our paths will cross again before too long. There's a book waiting for him at my house for when they do.

Below are a few random photos, and a video of crazy Benny chasing bubbles in Frank's back yard.

Seen through the cottage window earlier this month, this curious chipmunk spied something of interest...

There's no doubt that this is an all-Canadian, beer-loving chipper.





A little green insect sitting on an oar. It had been flailing around in the water when we were out fishing. It dried off in the sun and wind, and then flew off.





Another tiny critter. This one's length was less than the width of my pinkie fingernail.





Just some fences which caught my eye. Taken from the car, on our way home from the cottage.

Crazy Benny. He has to kill every last bubble. He'd been at it for about ten minutes by now and was actually quite tired at this point. Enjoy.