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Outdoor Memories

During the late winter I find myself having flashbacks to times spent fishing or in the woods. It must be the onset of spring fever. I can be tying or sitting somewhere quietly when a scene from my past flashes in my mind. I can recall my first remembrance of holding a fishing pole when I was maybe four or five years old. I was with a friend and our fathers had sat us on the bank of a stream by our campsite in Baxter State Park. We had bamboo poles with line and leader on the end. Our fathers were off up the stream as we sat contentedly on the rocky shore. I distinctly remember how they had created a pen of rocks in the stream to keep a six pack of Black Label ice cold while they fished. Other fishing flashbacks include beaver bogs, cold hands, canoes, bird songs, moose, and much more. I am not sure what is working in our minds to bring us back to special m
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