It’s Saturday morning, Easter weekend, no need to rush around; and I was doing one of my favorite things: piddle. For me, that means drinking coffee in bed and perusing around on my iPad or reading. I also think about my writing – all of those things on my writing shelf to complete. I had planned on writing an Easter blog but never got that far. While checking in on Facebook, something caught my attention – a fishing video. Now that was one big fish. I was reminded of a dream I had a few years ago – one that stuck. I hadn’t thought about it for a while. The video displayed a few things glaringly similar to my dream – the struggle to reel in the fish, the calm water, and the nearness of the shore on the other side.
First of all, let me explain how fishing fits in my life. Someone once asked me if I really ever unplugged from the world (phones, computers, pads, everything) what would I do? Is there anything at all that would force me to relax? I had to say: fishing. Why? Because I don’t take any of my electronics near the water, I don’t wear makeup, and I don’t care what time it is. I just sit and wait for the fish. Heck, sometimes I don’t even get dressed, especially at the crack of dawn. 🙂
I’m not the best fisherman in the world and I don’t do well with minnows (or minners if you’re a cowbilly from my roots). My bait of choice is a worm. I don’t go fishing frequently, too many demands on my time. In fact, I haven’t been for a couple of years now – maybe it’s time to schedule one of those trips. But for right now, since I’ve given you a little background, I would like to tell you about my dream – one I had while on vacation in a cabin in the San Juan Mountains.
I am at a small lake or pond. I can see the entire body of water surrounded by houses. The water is still. I am on one side preparing to fish. Two females are with me in my left peripheral – one about my age, one much younger. They are not fishing. They are watching me fish.
I cast my line into the water. To my surprise, the line flies almost to the bank on the other side. Immediately, there is a hard tug on my line. I grab the pole more securely. The tug on the line is so strong, I push my heels into the ground to avoid being pulled into the water. I am stable for a few seconds but then realize the magnitude of the fish on my line. I manage to reel it in to the middle of the lake when it flings out of the water then back in, as if to warn me what I am dealing with. It’s bigger than I, so I stop reeling and let out more line in hopes it will swim the other direction. But instead of retracting, it comes at me full force without being reeled in. I am frightened.
The two females are no longer in my peripheral. The huge fish jumps up on the ramp/dock and lands right next to me but does not hurt me. I look around for the two females. They are gone and so is the fish. I search for them.
On the other side of the lake, a man is being carried away on a stretcher near the bank. He is not in pain, but it appears he is missing a foot or part of his leg. I wonder if the fish did that – bit it off. But, again, he is not hurting. I wonder if the two females met with harm by the big fish or simply ran away. I do not know what happened to them but am looking for them as I awaken.
Pray tell; what is the meaning of this? Your comments are appreciated.
(If you were hoping for an Easter blog, please click here and read one of my favorites from last year.)