I’ve heard it said, plenty
of times, the anticipation is often better than the actual event. I suppose
that could be true if it all went wrong, or the anticipation was so unrealistic
the genuine real deal had little chance of success from the start. Maybe I’m
just an old curmudgeon, unimaginative sort, but the positive action trumps the
anticipation every time. I mean, is dreaming about it better than… well, you know?
If there was ever a time for
anticipation it has been the last few months. There’s nothing else but the
expectation and hope of better things ahead and unless you’re willing and able
to grab some time and money and get the heck out of here for a while, all that
you can do is wait out the winter and embrace the belief that spring will
surely arrive. Sometime.
A fellow at work took off
for Texas for a week, claiming his wife was going stir crazy and making him the
same. She’s from the Lone Star State and being cooped up in Embarrass,
Minnesota during a long and brutal winter was just too much. I didn’t hurt that
they have family down there and Roy was able to sneak out and kill a couple of
turkeys while everyone was still in bed. The trip cheered the wife and seems
worth it because she’s been showing up at work with fresh baked cookies,
muffins, and biscuits a couple of times a week.
Anticipation got the best of
our top mechanic, too, so he escaped the cold and snow for Mexico, where he
hired a boat and caught an impressive sailfish, a few tuna, and some other
ocean fish I can’t remember the names of. He came back tanned and happy, too,
but the weekly snowstorms he returned to are bringing him back to reality the
tough way.
My fiddle playing buddy,
Flea (of course that’s not his real name – nicknames are big around here)
couldn’t wait it out any longer, either. He’s been making numerous hour long
drives to Lake Superior to fish for Kamloops and Cohos. He’s caught a few, but
half the time the wind blows the drift ice in and there’s no fishing to be had.
So he visits the fly shops, which isn’t such a bad way to spend some time,
anyway.
There’s actually a light at
the end of the tunnel. It’s warmed up some and the snow in the yard is half
melted off. The creeks and rivers are about all open and running out of their
banks. Easter Sunday was the nicest day we’ve had yet, a sunny day with temps
reaching the 60’s. There are some ducks around, almost suddenly as if they were
just south waiting for the fields and ditches to flood. I’ve yet to hear a
grouse drumming but I see a few on the road every day.
Speaking of looking forward
to something, in less than a month I expect to be with some friends casting ridiculously tiny flies to disproportionately sized trout
on a beauty of a Montana river. The guys are all into the anticipation to the
point of e-mailing photos of flies to each other. It’s great! Being on the
river, however, will beat the heck out of wishing we were on it.
We each have our special contributions to
bring. I’m ready.
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