The stresses of everyday life seem to loosen their grip as the blanket of snow crunches under my footsteps. The uphill hike to the stream forces fresh chilled air into my lungs. It’s as if I can taste the purity of the glistening white scenery. A small clearing at the edge of the stream emerges. At last, I reach the shore of the rumbling water where I can begin to fish.
I remove my glove and reach into the styrofoam container filled with damp black dirt so pungent that I can taste the earthiness of it. Finding the most active worm, I pluck him out and pierce his slippery body onto the hook. There I stand as if frozen, smelling the musty algae being stirred by the gurgling water. Just then the dark silhouette of a trout scurries through the stream, reminding me of why I’m here, to fish! I cast the worm between the soft, flowing tufts of green algae, and wait.
My mind meanders, absorbing the surrounding beauty. The only sounds are the constant hum of the rushing water and an occasional bird chirping. Although my eyes search, I find no bird, just bare branches of towering trees covered with what appears as a sweet sugar glaze. A feeling of peace and contentment warms my soul and I realize I’m not here to catch a fish. I’m here for peace of mind.