Minnows

We enjoyed a late fall visit from good friends last week. They came from Indiana to our house - the first time ever.

Nathaniel's friend is an avid fisherman. Nathaniel had won a free dozen bait minnows at a community event this summer, and immediately thought of his friend.

While his friend was here, we picked up the minnows, borrowed fishing poles from the Wauconda Park District, and headed off to the fishing pier.

The weather was beautiful, but the fish weren't biting. Nathaniel, who didn't know how to operate the fishing pole, had some theories as to why. His friend also had some theories. I wonder as to whose were more accurate?

Either way, the biggest attraction for all five boys were those minnows, swimming around in the big orange bucket. The younger three had a hard time keeping their hands out of the bucket, even after repeated admonishments from the older boys that "just putting your hands in the water will kill them! So will touching them!"

I've got to give my girlfriend credit. She helped Nathaniel bait his line, taught him how to use the pole and cast the line. I watched from a safe distance and managed to avoid touching any of the fishing equipment or, more importantly, the minnows.

MINNOWS
John Keats

...Swarms of minnows show their little heads,
Staying their waxy bodies 'gainst the streams,
To taste the luxury of sunny beams
Tempered with coolness.
How they ever wrestle
With their own sweet delight, and ever nestle
Their silver bellies on the pebbly sand.
If you but scantily hold out the hand,
That very instant not one will remain;
But turn your eye, and they are there again.
The ripples seem right glad to read those cresses,
And cool themselves among the em'rald tresses;
The while they cool themselves, they freshness give,
And moisture, that the bowery green may live.

POETRY WEDNESDAY