Hyrum can't quite say fish yet, it comes out "wish" instead. Last week's fishing trip was his second time fishing, probably the first he comprehended. I'm not sure, though, if he enjoyed the boating, the fishing or the candy snacks the most.
(Check out the hillsides...GREEEEEEEN. I guess an every-other-day rain storm keeps 'em that way. I'm a little confused this year about what state I live in, cause the weather's acting awfully coastal-like.)
Cousin Tyler enjoyed chillin' in the front seat.
Every now and then we'd hear him snicker about my kids' antics.
I remember waking up early to fish with Dad. He'd drag me out in my pajamas, still sleeping and put me in the camper. Then we'd try to catch fish off the bank for several hours. From what I recall we were very seldom successful. (I hear from reliable sources that this cutie pie is my twin, so feel free to use your imagination.)
As I thought back to those early mornings as a kid, waiting and waiting to catch a "big one", I realized that it's not just about the fishing (though it can be fun at times), but about hanging with family in the mountains, breathing the clear air, watching the brilliant sun rise over the mountain peak throwing glitter on the water...I could probably go on and on.
Thanks, Dad, for taking us fishing then, and now passing the tradition on to my kids!