DUCK!!

A friend of LJS's owns property in the hills of Yamhill County. Lots of property that is populated by wildlife such as deer, coyotes, and critters. On the property, he has a man-made lake, which he fills with trout each year.

For fun, we decided to take Short Person up there to fish. Actually, it was supposed to be just Short Person and Daddy, but I couldn't resist the draw of quiet tranquility the day presented. The little lake sits on top of a grassy hillside surrounded by large trees untouched by loggers. Lush and green, they blanket the hillside beckoning to the unaware wanderer who would find himself lost, should he be drawn in by the deceptive daylight of their spacing.

Imagine the picturesque beauty and unassuming character of Sherwood's forest and you'd be fairly close.

Dragonflies the size of small hummingbird's buzz around eating mosquitos and if you'd been able to get close enough, you could have seen the smile on their faces. Skeeters hopped across the pond and fish jumped as they played, disrupting the stillness of the water.

It was every picture of a lazy day on a wild pond.

We brought up her fishing pole and his and a container of worms and let her go for it. LJS baited the hook, casted, and handed the pole to her while readying his own. Immediately, she got a bite. The line started shaking like crazy, she yelped, and handed the pole to me. Letting me reel in the first catch of the day. A tiny little rainbow trout the size of a snickers candy bar.

She peered around LJS's legs, daring to look at the fish, but not get close enough to touch, as he removed the hook and then tossed it back in the water.

It went on like this for about five fish... and then she got courageous.

AND INDEPENDENT.

Nothing wrong with that, I suppose, just the grievous fear of bodily harm. To us.

LJS showed her how to cast.

Her fishing pole is a kid's pole, so casting involves putting a finger on the line, pressing down a button, swinging the rod over the shoulder toward the water, while simultaneously releasing the button. It sounds easy enough, but I had to use LJS's pole because her's was too hard for me, which I find amusing. It's like a child-proof prescription cap.

Short Person casting, for us, was a big event. And she did it quite often. We'd have to listen for the crank of the line as she reeled in and then... DUCK!!!

Back swung the pole, the hook wildly flaying about catching trees, grass, and anything else in it's path as it wickedly sliced through the air on its trek back toward the water.

Talk about being on your toes!

We stayed up there for about two hours, until all the worms were gone. Toward the end, we weren't catching any fish and Short Person was getting bored. Even though fishing for her was a lot of work. Cast, reel, reel, reel. Cast, reel, reel, reel.

So, daddy showed her a trick.

He cast the line into the water for her and then walked her over to a forked branch that had been pounded upright into the earth about a foot away from the edge of the water.

"Okay, now just leave it here. Let it stay very still and a fish will come."

He sat the pole in the middle of the forked limb and Short Person knelt down beside it. "When am I ever going to catch a fish?" She asked in a voice full of desolation. And just as the last word left her mouth...

FWAP!

Down bent the pole! It started shaking! It started buzzing as the line sped off of the reel and wildly moved from one side of the pond to the other.

"I caught a fish!" She said jubilantly over the sound of her father and I yelling "Pick the pole up! Pick the pole up!"

She picked up the pole and started reeling that fish in... reel, reel, reel to the buzz, buzz, buzz as it flew back off. She held on for dear life, reeling with all of her might until finally...

She got the biggest fish of the day. I think he was about 7 or 8 pounds.