I’ve been sharing stories of what it was like to live an almost pioneer life when I was a child. Thinking about it brings back many memories. One day the three of us, myself and my two brothers, were wandering across the prairie and came upon a stream with a bridge over. I can’t remember where it was, how wide, nor whether the bridge was a foot bridge or meant for cars as well. But I do remember the fish. I know now they were minnows–little flashes of silver dashing through the water.
We rushed back to the bunkhouse and told Mom we wanted to go fishing.
Eagerly we waited while she fixed us each a fishing rod. She used a green switch from a tree, a length of string and a bent pin. Wow. We had never had fishing rods before and we ran back to the stream to catch fish. I guess we were pretty gullible or my mother pretty smart.
No way could we catch fish with that fishing rod. First, every time the minnows saw our shadow or anything flick across the water, the flashed away like falling rain drops. And then there was the hook. A ben pin is almost as big as a minnow. We were very young so it took us a few minutes to realize there was something wrong with that picture and decided to abandon fishing for chasing. We didn’t have much luck trying to catch them with our hands either but we discovered they liked to hide under the bridge in the cool shadows and by hanging over the side, we could send them swimming from one side to the other. It was as much fun as fishing.
Beside we concluded the minnows were too small to make much of a dinner anyway. Oh the innocence of childhood.