Dedication and Resilience, his old friends, sits with him as he pulls out his rod and reel, one more morning of fishing for answers.
Dedication, it is with him, as he looks around his lake of creation, seeing the beauty of his life reflecting back at him.
Resilience, his trusted companion, it enables him to come back, re-born, each day, with each struggle and fight, he is here.
In his tackle box are the tools he keeps close. Bait, lures and line. Hooks, pliers and scrimpers. Knives and nets. He has everything he needs to be a master fisher. Yet, these fish still elude him, even as they circle around the bait.
Glassy waves at his feet. Alone in his thoughts and words, his rod and reel, his true friends. A lifetime of coming here, he waits for the big one, the definitive answer. It’s in this tiny, Prussian blue lake. He feels it. He knows it. Goldenrod has taken over the turquoise waters edge. A freshly painted canvas arriving each morning with a dusting of dew resting on the grassy meadow nearby.
A reflection in the lake shows his face, worn by time, commitments and duties. His escape to the lake makes it all worthwhile. His respite from the inevitable tasks he faces each day.
His grace, every morning, she is here. An angelic water being, peaking up through the reeds lining the shore. She emerges her head, just above the cusp of the horizon. Sometimes, she comes close to him, glowing eyes, knowing eyes. She is the big one he is waiting to catch. Elusive in her movements, she teases him with each approach.
He has been loyal to the lake, all these years. She was his one true love, one he could count on as time slipped through his fragile fingers. He has been loyal to her. Seeing each other from a distance, a commitment only communicated through their vibrant energies surrounding a mirror into each other’s souls.
His angel, his lake of memories, makes his duties tolerable, even understandable. His escape to her makes his life relevant. His rod and reel, his friends, Dedication and Resilience, his trusted companions. His charmed life displayed across the mirage of the liquid cradle, holding his beloved angel. His treasured angel of the cold, desperate waters.
On the cusp of autumn, a random day to him, she finally emerges, after waiting for the sun to peak over the ridge. “In your hands, you hold a key. Your answers,” she says to him. “The key to your tackle box.” He turns and looks at his trusted, worn box with baits, lures and line. At the bottom, in a hidden part of the box, is a locked compartment. The key fits perfectly. Afraid to turn it and open, he gazes into her golden eyes once more. “Now that you have what you have been searching for, I will be gone forever. This is what you have been asking for, the big one….. and now it is yours.” In exchange, you will never see me again.”
He turned his eyes from hers. Contemplating the enormity of the decision, he held the key in his weathered hands. Was it her, meeting him on the water’s edge that he had found, but not seen, all of these years? Was it the constant search for the big fish, the big answer to all of the questions of his life that he yearned for? If he turned the key and opened the secret compartment of the tackle box, and discovered what he thought he wanted, would he regret never seeing his angel again?
The light of the mid-day sun was now high over aspen-lined ridge. She emerged completely from the water. Massive Scheele’s green, moss-covered wings dragged behind her small frame. Wings eroded by time and the brutal winters under the frozen water. Sitting next to him on a boulder, they held hands for the first time since he began coming to the lake. Her presence comforted him. It always had. Maybe that was the reason he fished in that lake for so many years? To feel the comfort of his angel? She knew his deepest thoughts and emotions. Here, in Mother Nature’s cathedral, he was able to express his truth. He was encouraged to feel everything in her presence; happiness and joy, peace and serenity, pain and sorrow, grief and despondence. A lake holding his life; an angel holding his soul.
He stood, glancing over his shoulder at the miraculous being next to him. Doubt filled his mind. Does he want the answers he has been seeking for years? How much does he need this angel next to him?