Gone fishing

I have never quite understood it.


A lover of the great outdoors, natural beauty in the countryside and all that but what is it that attracts so many to this pastime?

The “down time” I get. The peacefulness. Being alone with nature, thoughts. Just “being”.

Childhood reminiscence?

The rod and line. What does it add? Is there really a thrill of the chase in sitting on a grassy bank waiting for a bite? Maybe in a sea trip for a big fish, competitively and even in competitive course fishing there is some sport.

Ritual? Gathering all the components and tools necessary for the job. Making the trip. Finding the right spot. Setting up. Baiting the line. Casting. Wishing or hoping. Decanting flask-stewed tea and unwrapping foil-wrapped sandwiches. Tolerating rain.

Success or not – it seems not to matter much.

Perhaps that is the exact point.


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