My uncle (shown in picture to my right) and I went fishing under a bridge in Pensacola, Florida later that summer. We waded in knee deep crystal cool waters. I practiced casting the fishing line just right. A sudden weight tugged at the tip of my pole. "Reel it in, slow now..." I saw a dinner plate size flounder getting closer to my feet. Line snapped. The fish settled in the bed of sand. "Reach down and pick it up," were my instructions. I was scared. What would happen? I've never done this before. I didn't know what to expect. I extended my arm...but not soon enough. It's shiny grey, flat back scurried away.
I often pause and reflect how fish are like the variety of opportunities I've had available to me. Some I took and reeled in, leading to morsels of insight. Other opportunities stirred fright of the unknown; scared of my own curiosity. They got away - possibilities forever rippling down the current of time.
**New post: 9/12/13