Pensacola Fishing Pier

About 100 fishermen and women and kids were on the pier yesterday pulling in Spanish mackeral and an occasional red drum.  The weather was spectacular, the Gulf strong with a brisk southeasterly breeze prevailing.

Small dolphins (or porpoises?) were also fishing near by, and Golden eagle rays sped by as dark forms under the pier.  A variety of bait, tackle, and techniques could be observed.  I learned that a small silver fish – thin fins – are used to attract King Mackerel.  Most were using something called a “Gotcha!” lure that swims with the slightest tug on the line and shimmers like a menhaden.

I enjoy watching young fishermen and certainly love the fisherman’s garb and paraphernalia!

I am gathering images, ideas, and information for a new book that I am planning now, about a young boy who fishes, but who is fishing for his meals and not necessarily for sport.

When the Gulf Oil Spill (BP Deep Water Horizon) occurred, the fishing was only catch and release for a year.  I wondered what all the families did who fish every weekend for protein.  Many do here…fish for food.

The Pensacola pier was rebuilt after Hurricane Ivan to be much stronger and will probably endure for many decades to come.  There is a nice fishing and tackle shop there, a breakfast and lunch concession, t-shirt concession, and a snow cone cart:

Dolphins and Beachcombers Save Each Others Lives

My good friend sent this video to me of an remarkable event and interaction between beach goers in Brazil and a group of grounded dolphins. I am fascinated with how people along the beach react and how naturally the species interaction goes off.  How did the people who helped them feel after that interaction?  For me, it might be life changing.  For the dolphins it surely was….

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Ode to a Mountain Cabin

To find a mountain cabin.

To go there to listen, walk the trails, revel in its forest.

To sit among old logs, the musk of ashes from long ago

Winter fires in a large stone hearth.

To be…still.

Thunder, rain, rivulets running down the stones

Converging in pools; to know the rhythm

Of Earth again.

To want to give again,

To feel filled-up in heart as well as mind.

Body waits return of soul.