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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4204 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Fly Fishing as an Art Form Alan Addotto I don’t know why I never noticed it before I’m not sure why I did then but there she was in the bow of the tin bateau as natural as the Saturday sunshine, ……….. we drifted, floated with the early morning powder-mists curling, touching the sides of the boat then parting. I watched her. Not a touch of pretend prissiness as she arced her arm backward flicking the tip of the fly rod then whipping it forward again pausing as the coiled line left her fingertips the tip stopping just short of the water building a momentum snapping it backward and then her casting forward again. A sinuous upper body ballet of flowing energy and flawless motion, a dance as graceful as if she and the line were lovers of long acquaintance. rolling emotion from the bottom of her spine to the fly tipped nylon leader. She plays out the line……… it singing through the shiny eyelets sounding like evening cicadas. a-reeeeeeeee a-reeeeeee a-reeeeeeee. The line finally, delicately settles on the water not breaking the surface tension. as all the ripples relax back into a dawnlight reflecting glass. as quiet and sure as that beautiful unselfconscious smile. |
