Full Circle

The ranch hand's earliest memories of fishing include crawling through a barbed wire fence or straddling a cattle guard and traversing a grasshopper infested pasture to a beckoning pond.

Never knew if piscatorial success would occur, but knew the pursuit of ever elusive swimmin' varmits was a joy to behold.

Bream, sun perch, and google-eye reigned supreme, but the occasional "mud cat" would rear its whiskered head with a welcome "jerk" from time to time?

45 years later finds the would-be angler engaging in the business of "raisin" baby fish in the Tin Star pond with the goal of enticing future hooked adventures??

Ain't no guarantees....Ain't no known quantities...there is just the "promise" of tug on the line, pulsation in the fishing rod, and a grin on the ole fat boy's face.

Life comes full circle a time or two and it is mostly grand!