I was a birder long before my husband turned me on to becoming a trout
fisherman, and he was a dedicated angler before he discovered the joys of
hardcore birding. Now we meet in the middle and enjoy both pastimes equally
(and fortunately, they can usually be pursued simultaneously).
Merry Christmas to all!
Hendrik
On Sat, Dec 25, 2021 at 5:09 PM Paul T. Sullivan <paultsullivan@xxxxxxxxxxxx>
wrote:
Gerard, Jon,
Both Carol Karlen and I -- independently -- were fishers before we were
birders. We watched warblers in the bushes along the shore, then got a
book
to identify them, and eventually moved away from fishing.
It's a thing, a progression, I guess.
Paul Sullivan
---------------------------
Oregon
Date: 12/25 1:07 PM
From: Gerard Lillie <gerardlillie...>
Subject: [obol] Re: The Gift of Magpie - Short Story
________________________________________
Wow, we had very similar trajectories to birding! I'm from Michigan and my
parents were great fishers. I started fishing early in life and it was my
passion, but I also watched birds. I got a BA from U of Michigan in biology
with emphasis on fisheries. I started flyfishing when quite young. I found
myself carrying binoculars on the stream to also watch birds. I finally
realized I was more of a birder than fisherman when I would trail my rod in
the water as I walked in streams looking for birds. I have fished very few
times in the intervening 30+ years. I still like fishing, so I guess I need
a clone!
Gerard Lillie
Portland, OR
______________________________
Subject: [obol] The Gift of Magpie - Short Story
I think each of us probably remembers what inspired their interest in
birds.
Here is my story.
Before birding I flyfished catch & release for 30 years. I fished for
steelhead in the Coast Range and warm water fish from a float tube in
Willamette Valley ponds. My favorite fishing though, was for large rainbow
trout far, far away in eastern Oregon.
I was on a trip to a remote area to fish a small stream I had discovered
nearly 40 years earlier. I kept the spot to myself and always had a special
retreat eight hours away. It was 25 years before I saw anyone else. We
waved, thumbs up, and went in opposite directions. It was that kind of
place.
A dozen years ago, a pair of Black-billed Magpies followed me along the
stream for the better part of a day. I guessed they were magpies. I'd seen
a
picture somewhere. They kept their distance, but each time they perched, it
was a little closer. Eventually they sat calmly 25'' away if I was sitting
down and not moving.
I could see their intelligence & curiosity. They would look at me, hone a
bill, then look at each other. It was fun. They were beautiful. They were
mesmerizing. I wished for the compact binoculars I left in my truck.
As I took a lunch break, they were hanging out nearby. I wolfed a sandwich,
then dangled my legs in the cold, clear water and lay back on the grassy
bank. Nirvana. I drifted off...
Suddenly I came out of it. My first thought was, "What is a 62-year-old
doing hiking in steep, rugged country, 6 miles from camp, 20 miles from a
highway with only two birds for companionship?" Pushing his luck was my
answer.
I knew then and there, it was time for a change, something a little more
tame, as interesting and hopefully a lot closer to home. But what could
possibly replace my love of fishing?
On the 8-hour drive back to Salem, a mind can wander. I kept thinking about
the magpies. How exciting it had been to share their close proximity and
antics. Then I realized they had also given me a gift, the answer to my
question: "Think birds!"
Happy Holidays!
Jon Hazen
NE Salem
--
This email has been checked for viruses by Avast antivirus software.
https://www.avast.com/antivirus
*******
UNSUBSCRIBE: www.freelists.org/list/obol
OBOL archives: www.freelists.org/archive/obol
Contact moderator: obol-moderators@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
