There’s just a bit of snow on the ground and the trees are bare. It’s that gray time of year between the colors of Fall and the deep white of Winter here in northern New England.
Inside the house, meanwhile, the pies are baked, potatoes set out to peel, and a big turkey is ready for the oven. Various family members and friends will start arriving tonight and more in the morning, ages ranging from 90 down to 12. It is that, I think, for which I am most thankful, for a close and extended family that often serves as a stabilizing anchor in a turbulent world.
Fishing is that sort of anchor, too; not quite as important, perhaps, but close. In good times and bad, fishing–any fishing–is a refuge from a world of care. We can escape with rod and reel in hand, chasing hope for an hour or a day, and come back somehow refreshed, better able to deal with whatever cares a particular day might bring. So I am thankful for fishing. And a Happy Thanksgiving to all of you.