Whooping Crane

Jesse sat in his barn office playing guitar,

it was one of only two possessions he wanted from his dad's place in Texas,

that and a 1970 Stevens 410 single shot that had been his as a kid.

The memory of that Saturday fishing trip played like a movie in his head.

He had not thought of it in years, maybe even never.

They unloaded the boat from the trailer,

it slid quietly into the still dark water..

A large Gray Crane rose up out of the shallows on down the bank,

"Man, than it is a big Crane!" Jesse watched it fly into the fog rising over the lake.

"Get your jacket out of the cab, you gonna need it till the sun gets on up a bit."

He stood there holding the boat close to the shore waiting for Jesse to come back..

"Hold the rope while I pull the truck up and get it parked."

Jesse held the rope, pulling it snug to the bank, wanting his dad to know he was dependable.

They rowed the small aluminum 8 foot Starcraft into the fog.

It had a 18 hp Evinrude outboard but James didn't start it up..

There spot was about 500 yards to the east along the levee.

A black stump rose up out of the water where they tied the front of the boat, 

it was there secret Bream bed., at least that's what James told him.

As the morning warmed up the fish started biting.

The cooler was filling up with Blue Gill and even some Red Gill,

all about the size of a grown man's open hand.

They stopped long enough to eat their ham and cheese sandwiches..

James made them before they left the house..

it was a great day.

Jesse strummed the guitar and felt like he could still taste that sandwich,

He wondered where all these thoughts were coming from,

how his old man's death could be stirring all these memories to the front of his mind..

He felt uneasy,

wondered what it meant, if anything.

wkm

The Horses

nashville