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One of late life’s pleasures is being invited to go fishing. Although languishing in semi-retirement, when the call comes to be taken for the part of the day, other than nap time, I am excited to see the boat and trailer roll up in front of our place.
An even greater springtime joy is to be given permission to fish in someone’s own honey hole, their own little piece of heaven, a private pond.
I have found folks to be both very protective of their property, working hard to keep trespassers out, but at the same time taking real pride in having friends catch a mess of their private stock. It is almost akin to bragging about grandchildren.
Some of the big bass have been given names and get fed regularly by the landlord. It seems strange at first blush but other pets like dogs and cats have names. If you hook old Sally or Big Butch, it is a good practice to take a quick picture for your host prior to carefully practicing catch and release.
And returning to grandchildren — these ponds are a wonder to little ones just starting their fishing careers. It is always good to begin catching, rather than just fishing, and most of these bodies of water will produce one squeal after another.
Don’t ever violate the law of private property by poaching a neighbor’s fish, but do be bold enough to ask permission to very occasionally visit their domain. I have found most of the novely has worn off for them and watching your ecstacy returns them to the days when fishing in their backyard was a special treat.
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