I awoke this morning with my normal exuberance, not the grumbling at having to arise as some do, nor with the groan of those whom have imbibed the night before, nor with the moan of foreboding of one finding it hard to face another day. I arise with thankfulness at the thought of having another day on the planet Earth, and joy at the prospect of learning and living and loving again! So I jump from my king sized tempur-pedic cocoon and pad to my deck with a hobble likened to an old man due to a stabbing pain from plantar fasciitis of my left foot. The pain is short lived though, and the comical old man gate melts away like ice cream in the tropical sun. I am greeted this morning with a crisp rain scrubbed view off my west facing deck of a scene I can only describe as "crystal"; as if I were in a snow globe which had never been shaken, or viewing grandmas' china cabinet, the morning sun bursting in rainbows off myriad prisms of cut glass. Whilst looking to my right I am greeted by the gorgeous site of the sun dancing atop the Loma Prieta peak, the highest of the coastal Santa Cruz mountain range, it's soft shoulders surrounding the site of the epicenter of the the earthquake of 1989, I am struck with a childhood memory. I remember paddling upstream in my Dad's baby blue canoe in the Northern Peninsula of Michigan (alternatively known as the "Upper Peninsula" hence the term Uper, pronounced "you-per" of the folks that hail from here) , the cool crisp north eastern forest dense on both banks. The talk of gurgling water as it flowed through a felled tree's branches eagerly parlaying it's message to those who would listen. In my small hands a short piece of fiberglass holding a Zebco 202 reel and some 50 yards of 12 lb. test mono-filament line whisked over my head throwing just upstream from the felled tree a shiny chrome spoon lure which fell with a magnificent "bloop". Seconds later, the reel's drag whining, the pole bending at an absurdly obtuse angle, the realization that I had a big one on the line was imminent. The culmination of an exquisitely laborious fight, one of mad dashings, brilliant leaps, and even some sly fakes at relinquishment was the landing of the largest, most beautiful fish I had ever seen. A 17 1/2 lb. Coho Salmon. A Very tasty memory spurred by a crystal clear morn! Thanks Papa-San for the great memory! Till next post, be well! -b
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9 Responses to Crystal

  1. Buzz Bauspies says:

    This is interesting to see what you remember over the years. Yes we had some very good times and pleasant memories but this was one of the best. I have an 8MM film of the event as I was not fishing but taking movies with my camera in the boat. We caught some great fish, but the best part was when your eyes got as big as saucers when we got the fish in the boat. Your sister Melissa, at about 2 years old was also very excited and helped with catching three fish. Great Blog Bob…love dad

    • Buzz Bauspies says:

      Don’t know how to edit my comment? Can you help me? Dad.

      • rbauspies says:

        For Dad, and all folks who respond to bloggers, responses are editable by the site administrator. Just contact the Blogger via e-mail, phone etc. and have them correct or delete any unwanted or erroneous info! -b

  2. rbauspies says:

    Thanks Tari! I am having fun doing it!

  3. Chasidy says:

    Added, I really like your site! 🙂

  4. Virgina Amsden says:

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  5. Vernita Netz says:

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