Wildcat Creek Journal

My dad passed away on this date, three years ago . I'll admit that I still have a hard time with it, knowing that I'll never see him again or talk to him in this lifetime. You always hear that time heals the heart, and the pain has faded some, but you never truly get over losing a loved one. What I am left with are the memories, for better or for worse. In my head, I can faintly see his face, can almost make out the sound of his voice among the the many others that have stayed with me through the years. Sometimes I try to remember certain things he said, and when I can't, it drives me crazy. There are things that I have wanted to tell him since he passed, but can't. I have questions about things that only he would know the answer to, but I am left wondering now for the rest of my life, with no access to that answer. I've ran into trouble with a car engine, or air conditioning unit, or electrical panel, and my life- line that was always just a phone call away, is now...

I stayed up way too late last night. Chase called on his way home from work and told me that we were going catfishing. That's usually how things like this begin. My brand new son- in- law Bryan was going too, although my daughter wasn't crazy about the idea. No worries though, she would stay at our house and await his return. She ended up asleep on my side of the bed until we got back. Apparently, their agreed upon curfew was 11:30, and he did his best to keep it despite Chase's nudging him to stay longer. My son has no concept of time when it comes to fish, whether they are biting or not. So there we stood in the dark, on a bridge that crosses the Tyger  River. Every creature that flies or creepeth upon the ground was out. The noise from insects and frogs in the surrounding swamp was deafening. Chase was our catfish guide. He'd brought all the rods, bait and any tackle we might need. Chase's bait of choice was chunks of chicken breast marinated in his secret fo...

This is something I wrote in my journal five years ago. I wish I had started a blog back then. Maybe I would know what I am doing by now. Anyway, thanks for taking the time to read it. One of the best things about living in the country is the unfolding of the seasons before you. I imagine that in the big city, one season just blend into the next, with the only noticeable difference being the temperature. I imagine that the sound of traffic drowns out the mockingbirds on May afternoons, and the sound of owls after dark. Having the great fortune of coming up in a rural setting, I learned at an early age to appreciate the simple things in life the most. Sunrises, sunsets, the trilling of the tree frogs, and of course, the whippoorwills song in late evening. Each spring, one sure sign that nature is alive and well is the lonesome sound, floating through the valley, hanging on the breeze. Many a night has been spent around a campfire, listening to the haunting dirge from deep in the wo...

Spend enough time outside in the summer months, and it is likely you will encounter a snake. Our first impulse is to get away, or perhaps if the snake is near our home, neutralizing the perceived threat by having the snake removed or killed. Our ignorance sometimes causes us to make rash decisions like this, mostly because we cannot identify the snake or its potentiality to be a dangerous reptile. There are only four types of poisonous snakes in the southeastern U.S. Rattlesnakes Copperheads Cottonmouth Water Moccasins Coral Snakes Though it is possible to see a non- venomous snake almost anywhere, most people will never encounter a poisonous one in their lifetime. Learning more about snakes can alleviate some of the fear and anxiety people have, and give them an understanding of how snakes are an important part of our natural world. The presence of a snake-- even a venomous one--  is a good sign of a healthy and balanced ecosystem. Snakes keep the rodent population in ...

  I am a coffee fanatic. Nothing pleases me more than a French press full of freshly ground fair trade, organic coffee from somewhere halfway across the globe. Sumatra has been my favorite for quite some time now: the humid, earthy aroma, with a hint of high mountain rainforest in each sip, a perfect campfire coffee, as I sit and watch he fog lift from the surface of some remote trout river. Or, if you prefer an espresso drink, a nice grande flat white with heavy whipping cream, served by a caffeine jacked hipster with a face full of metal at the local Starbucks. Coffee is always my fuel of choice, wherever I find myself, but lately, I have become obsessed with tea. My favorite so far is the old standard Earl Grey, which is black tea flavored with the unique spicy citrus flavor of bergamot oil from the Mediterranean. The caffeine content from tea is milder than in coffee, but it provides a nice pick- me- up, and doesn't give me the jitters after a few cups like my other dark dru...

Yesterday was gorgeous, with sunshine and temperatures in the mid seventies, but there was a storm brewing in the distance. Thunder was rumbling far off in the west, and slowly headed in my direction. I would have to move quick, so I grabbed my old decrepit flyrod and a box containing a few poppers, as well as some nymphs, just for good measure. I waded through a tangle of saplings and small vines, making my way to a bank above where a branch dumps in to Wildcat Creek. Immediately, small shadows scattered, a school of bream, and they were headed for cover, which in this case was a mountain laurel bush and some submerged roots of an undercut bank. All around me, and overhead, were limbs, vines, and leaning trees that would take my flies and probably my leader if I tried anything other than a simple roll cast. After a few tries, and a couple of snags, I figured out that I would have to let the slow current make the presentation for me. I flipped my white popper out toward the opposit...

A couple of weeks ago, I bought a new sketch pad and some pencils, sure that with a little practice, I'd be able to steady my hand enough to produce a few somewhat recognizable drawings to go along with some of my writings about nature and outdoor experiences. I loved drawing in a past life, though I was never really any good. Back then, it was superheroes or comic book characters, something I'd do rather than studying for a history exam, or doing my Algebra homework. I drew some animals and fish, but they were always cartoonish. Sometimes my drawings were good, but I never took it seriously. Same thing with writing. Had I known then, what I want to know now. My first sketch the other day was of a rainbow trout. It wasn't perfect, but I was satisfied with it. I took my time and paid attention to detail, and found the whole thing both relaxing and invigorating. I was tickled that it actually favored a fish, much less a trout. I spent a while shading in the right colors....