Yesterday I bundled up in long johns, sweaters, heavy socks and all the rest of the cold weather gear and headed out on lake Simcoe for some last-minute ice fishing. Originally a test run for my new portable ice hut, but by the time we got out there, there wasn’t enough time to do more than drill the holes and drop our lines.
Looking like Ralphie’s little brother Randy in A Christmas Story aside, there is something humbling about being mere specks on the frozen lake. Kinda like the first word on a blank page. The buzz of snowmobiles gets quickly lost with that first tug on your line.
Blue sky above you and a layer of ice separating you from the mysterious dark waters under your feet. If it wasn’t for those pesky snowmobiles, it would be easy to imagine yourself back before the days of monstrous cottages and ostentatious boats. Back when catching the perch meant you would eat tonight.
I needed that. We caught the monster… ok, we caught bait, minnows, but it’s not always about catching the fish. As long as they are biting, that’s all I need. That and the wordless camaraderie of my fishing posse. It doesn’t matter who catches the fish as long as one of us does.
Back home, empty-handed but happy, I found that the characters of Appetites paced impatiently in my head. I guess the cold cleared enough room in there for them to mill about like minnows in the pail. And while I didn’t get anything written last night, a good nights sleep and a hot shower this morning, I picked up where I left off last night. Energized, encouraged and most of all inspired.
“How does Peter meet Lou?” “Why exactly does silver affect werewolves?” “What about this name for Peter’s first victim?” and a whole conversation between Peter’s daughter and Officer Reynolds, clamoured in my head.
So this morning has been spent on research. On examining the various repercussions of different actions or interactions.
Oh, and planing my next foray onto Ouentironk. Maybe next time we’ll catch enough for a good fish fry. Happy bellies also inspire but maybe that’s just me.