Nature's Nod

"Puh-LEEZ, Mom???" What mother worth her salt can resist this familiar cry from her child? He wasn't asking for money or the keys to the car; he wasn't seeking permission to access a suspect computer game or watch an inappropriate movie on Cable TV. He simply wanted to go fishing. With me. I was exhausted. It had been a difficult week at the office compounded by a morning of fighting with my husband. I needed a respite, some quiet time. I wanted to be left alone. But I have taught my 12 year old son well; he knows never to give up unless he is absolutely forced to and so we headed out with our gear and nightcrawlers. This was Devin's special place and it was beautiful. We entered the mouth of the path that led to Diana's Pool, distinguished by a sign that proclaimed, "Trophy Trout." And treacherous trails. I had never been invited to Diana's Pool before and now I understood why. The sinewy paths were a maze of rocks and boulders and fallen tree limbs that went straight up and would otherwise confound a gazelle. Devin knew that I would not have been able to walk it at my previous weight, which topped 360 pounds. We moved deeper into the woods and I became acutely aware of the sounds of nature: the rushing water, the twigs snapping under my sneakers, my son's breathing as he forged ahead in front of me. At one point I nearly went down but not because of my weight - I merely lost my footing. I was otherwise strong and fit and keeping step with my son who suddenly exclaimed, "We're here, Mom!" We were deeply into the woods, we had walked and climbed for at least a mile, perhaps more. My son stood on a boulder and extended his arms in a gesture of pride for having brought his mother to this special place. God, it was beautiful, a deeply recessed pool of water surrounded by rocks and ledge of every size. Different species of fauna hung over the water strategically as if hand-picked and delicately positioned by Rembrandt or VanGogh. Or God. I unfolded the blanket onto one of the flatter surfaces and quietly lowered myself with some trepidation. What if I was not able to get back up? Falling as a super-morbidly obese person had been one of my greatest fears and for a moment I panicked. I settled easily, however, and realized that my body was strong and my weight no longer hindered me. I closed my eyes and raised my face to the sun and focused on the sound of my son's line hitting the water as he cast over and over again: plop, whir, snap, plop, whir, snap. The rhythm of the sound was as natural and healthy as my heartbeat. We stayed for an hour or so and when it came time to leave, I lifted myself easily from the blanket feeling blessed and renewed. Devin did not catch a trophy trout and I lost my favorite pair of sunglasses. But I gained so much more. And when we returned home, Devin said simply, "You did awesome, Mom." And before I could finish my crooked smile, he begged, "Can we go out in the canoe now? Puh-LEEZ, MOM???"

What a great story, and told so well. I'm a flyfishing guy and my girls will learn it from me. They have gone out a few times and we recently saw a preview to a movie and one of the lines was, "Take me fishing, because it won't be too long before I'm walking down the aisle." Great for you guys. PS, the fishing is much better out West!!!