At sunrise this morning, winter’s final morning, I enjoyed the pink clouds gliding past the ridge to the northeast of our little village, knowing that I have passed through another Catskill winter.
When I began this odyssey, this fulfillment of a dream long savored, I did not know how long or short it might be. I still don’t. I recall the doctor saying the words, “it is your best chance for long term survival”. Though I was sedated, my mind was clear, calm, considering that I didn’t know if I would be leaving that room. I asked him what “long term” meant and he answered, a little flustered; “well, ten years”. I will pass the eighth anniversary of that conversation this week.
It took three of those precious ten years just to get to my minimum retirement age, to find this little house in Crooked Eddy, and take the necessary steps to make the dream a reality. My fifth full fishing season in the Catskills, the magic land that stole my heart decades ago, lies ahead.
Like any angler, I have my own visions and anticipations of what this season will bring, but none of us really know. Thirty years fishing these rivers has given me some insights and a wealth of memories, but an intrinsic part of the magic of Nature is the surprise of each new day along the rivers.
Bright Waters Catskill 