Fishing Back to My Roots

Yes, the fish my sister Wanda is holding on the left is frozen solid. And yes, that really is the hairdo and glasses I had in the late 80’s, just like everyone else.

When I mention my roots, I’m not talking about changing my hair color. The older we get, the more we sift through our old memories and experiences.

To tame the chaos, I have been dedicating time to declutter and get organized. That includes going through old boxes, papers, and photos. I’m descended from a line of collectors and pilers on my mother’s side so my tendency to keep is strong. I think, you never know when you might need that, or how will I remember that moment without the photo? Lately I’ve been talking myself out of that mindset and answering those thoughts instead with live in the present because it is so precious, you’re not remembering it while its in a box in the attic anyway, and that unfinished project is keeping you awake at night.

While sifting old photos I was reminded of my time spent fishing. I fished bluegill and perch, pike, and whatever else would bite in the humid mosquitoey summers and below zero winters where I grew up in Lower Michigan. I fished alone, with my younger sister, and with my father, who taught me the little I know.

My fishing experience continued when I moved to Washington, shifting from lakes and ponds to the deep, cold waters of Lake Whatcom and the Puget Sound. Instead of standing on the shore, I bobbed in a sailboat or kayak.

Its been a while since I fished for anything. I’m recently practicing a vegan lifestyle for all the usual environmental and ethical reasons. But I loved fishing. For me, it wasn’t about the size of what I caught or catching what I ate. It was always about being on the water, learning about the fish and its life cycle, slowing down, and shutting out everything else but the quiet hum of the outdoors.

That’s why I wrote this article for WhatcomTalk.com about the new Bellingham, WA-based North Sound Chapter of Trout Unlimited. I understand where they are coming from and I respect that they are willing to take action to preserve and conserve rivers and their fish for generations to come.

I’m recycling most of the pictures of the fish I once caught. Then I’m going to head out to my local stream to see the salmon coming in. I’ll spend some time with the pictures in my head and then head home with any trash I find along the way.

Singing and Dancing in the Heart of the City

I’ve been using my writing to explore my musical side lately. I’m looking forward to checking out the incredible bands I researched for my recent WhatcomTalk.com article about the Downtown Bellingham Parnership‘s urban outdoor Wednesday evening concerts, Downtown Sounds, throughout the month of July.

There’s nothing better than dancing in the street to live local and Pacific Northwest bands as the sun sets over my favorite town in America.

The smell of the food trucks and children dancing with abandon remind me of every August of my school days, dancing barefoot and singing along on the warm pavement of W. Nepessing Street in my home town for Lapeer Days.

My father was the City Parks and Recreation Director and he helped plan and execute the festival for decades. And for a time, my sister worked for the Chamber of Commerce and helped organize the event well after my father retired. I snapped this photo of the bike I decorated and rode in the parade in my early teens. My dad’s work truck in the background was well-recognized in our town. Its possibly the only photo I have connected to that downtown street festival.

That history calls me to the free public events like Downtown Sounds that draw our communities together and mark our summers with steadfast memories. I’ll look forward to it right here at home for decades to come.