Morning Drives

    This morning started out like all the others, monotonous. Nothing out of the ordinary happened until I reached the boundary. This over vivd sunrise was there to greet me, so I decided to share it with you. 

    It's mornings and sights like this that make me long for early morning fishing trips with my grandpa. We used to be up before 5 AM to prep our secret fishing hole along the creek bank. "You always wanted to slip in before the fish could see," my grandpa would explain. "They are smarter than you can imagine." I remember him inspecting my fishing outfit before climbing into his overly tall truck. If you wore white he would make you change clothes. 

    The long hike to our fishing spot was always an adventure. I was always nervous about the flashlights dying before day break.  Batteries only lasted so long. I cherish these memories as an adult and often have dreams of fishing. I miss my grandfather beyond measure. He was the rock of our family and he is what kept us together. One distant memory that really hits home consists of bologna sandwiches, Pepsi, and moon pies. Even now, when I see a moon pie the instant memory hit me. We were out on his overly large pontoon boat just before day break waiting for the first light to guide our way up the cove. 

    Grandpa had a plan that morning, but it was one of many. We would anchor off the bank and catfish through out the day and cook our fish that night for supper. The bad part was that we did not catch enough to fill our bellies and resorted to eating the bologna and moon pies. Dad met us at the dock to get the boat out just as night was taking over. He asked if we had ate all of our bounty. Grandpa said we "had full bellies and that was enough." He never told dad that we had ended up cruising the lake all day without catching a single fish.