In the depths of the Minnesota winter my boat and my dreams lie waiting for spring. This year I intended to take them both down to the Father of Waters several times a week. I will learn the Big River much better then and catch large walleyes each and every time...... Now in the midst of July she (boats are always shes) has been out but once and the prospects look rather slim for the next few weeks. Why does it always seems to work out this way?
Reality often intrudes upon our dreams and fantasies doesn't it? I can rationalize that this boating disconnect is caused by the price of gas, the distance and effort involved, health issues, the weather, family obligations, my spouse's busy schedule and on and on. There is truth in all of these and more but the bottom line is most days having gotten somewhat older, with a little less energy for such enterprises, I am content to potter in my garden, walk my dog binoculars in hand and take each day one hour at a time. Is this what they call "growing old gracefully?"
On the other hand its 5 a.m. and some of the best trout streams east of the Rockies lie only 15 minutes from my door. Perhaps I should....
Dreams. Sometimes a few minor adjustments are all