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:: wakes up with a start... swings legs to cold wooden floor... quickly wash... grabs a fishing rod... and makes way to the nearest bank for some pre-dawn ... morning prayers... fly fishin ::
:: drops bamboo pole, basket, other rudimentary equip and stomps into wading boots... a misty fog swirls just above the silent waters... here and there a plop echoes... where fish come to the surface for a nibble... chafing arms covered in heavy flannel, stands on the very edge... breathing in surroundings... sniffing aire to detect the day's forecast... ::
:: hmmm... a bit of arctic cold still riding your coattails Mr. North... and with that opens fish basket, takes out bait, baits hook and wading in.... starts with a back hand roll cast... intermittent with abrupt stops... moves line in a straight line... tight loop.... sends bait flying... satisfying imitation of an unwary insect... alighting on the water's surface... barely a sink... tug forward on the forward cast... then flying off again with the flick of the wrist... back and forth...::
:: skies reveal their dreams slowly... creeping along the outskirts of twilight's dominion... the whipping buzz of bait ... dancing in a silent ambush of spectacular hues... be still my soul... the morning's prayers... be still my soul ::
paradise garden and morning nature sounds of birds in Spring
:: carries the basket of fresh caught fish and fishing eq up the bank... decides to cook it a ways closer to the open air pavilions but not to close... footfalls crunches sun-baked dirt... heads just to a spot near a large pond that feeds a brook... ::
:: rolls up sleeves... cleans then fillet trout in small brook... returns to basket... unwrap little cans of seasonings... stroke up the stone fire to a mid temperature... pour a little oil in the pan and set it on the edges of the cirular stones surrounding the fire...::
:: throws fillet in pan... slices a lemon, squeezing juice... sprinkle a pinch of salt, pepper and dill... roll fresh parley 'tween palms unto trout... take a small widdled sharpen forked branch and checks fish... mouth waters at the smell of the trout browning... mmmmm mmm! full flavor fresh caught trout is the best! ::
:: sticks homemade fork into trout to check if its ready to be flipped... it is.. flips it to other side... rolling the end of long open flannel to use as a potholder... shakes the pan a little... curling smoke lightly rises... checks for flaking... ahhh its starting... Great! ...removes it from the fire... will let it finish cooking in it's oils! set pan aside and looks up... breaks into a smile... Ms. Cellie walking alone straight toward Me... ::
:: wipes hands on back of jeans... rising to greet her... as she nears, smiling, states... ::
"would you be needing a bit of Fresh caught Trout Ms. Cellie?"
:: huge smile... kinda proud of the size of the trout too! Not those tiny ones... caught the kind that fills the pan with meaty flesh... ::
Andreas Vollenweider - Behind The Gardens - Behind The Wall
:: eyes scans for something for her to sit on... sees a stomp specially sawed and roughly shaped for sitting... quickly strides over... lifts it then returns dropping it with a thud... indicates that she could sit there... ::
"Am dirty anyway so I can just lay out here on the ground..."
:: lowers back to a crouch... working with the simmering goldening fish... squints up to Ms. Cellie asks::
"Would you like a bit of a bite with some grain bread? "
:: ... not waiting for an answer drop pan back... reaches into basket pulling out a tiny loaf... breaking it... talks gently but fast the whole time so as not to give her a chance to break in... slaps the trout 'tween the bread's uneven halves... rises slightly holding the loaf with both hands... coming closer to Ms. Cellie... ::
:: sticks tip of tongue gingerly around edges of flesh... closing lips 'round bread... nodding head in approval, then swinging over to bring fleshy edges toward Ms. Cellie's mouth... do not focus on her eyes but the curve of her outer lips... fingertip slightly extended pass bread barely pressing loaf... a hair's width tween fish flesh and her own... softly orders with a ting of amusement...::
"open wide Lady... now... bite..."
Rachmaninov - piano concerto No.2 (Adagio sostenuto)
:: walks in from the outings and hears music! Huge smile... hurries up the walkway and comes into a gathering of sorts... laughs happily and waves at FlaGrrl... :: Hiya!
:: sees Alexus and going over to his booth hears Notorious! Whoa :: Greetings Alexus! Welcome ... first time Biggie been played here... VERY cool! :: chuckles happily.... turns toward an unlit fireplace and sees.... who? Why Summerz! :-) ::
:: laughs with a twinkle and remarks :: Play anything you like! Heck if you guys were adventurering kind.. I would say let's have a party in the mountains somewhere... LOL ...
(maybe too much writing.... chuckle... or just let your imagination go )
:: hears FlaGrrrl music starting up and realizing I'm still in filthy clothing from earlier today does a quick welcome... suggests that everyone help themselves to whatever is needed... quickly steps over to FlaGrrrl and gives a big ole smile ::
Am glad people are getting freer inside... the music is beautiful....
Quote:
Originally Posted by SXMGirl
Talking Heads Wild Wild Night
:: waves at SXMGirl and cupping hand over mouth hollars a welcome as well ... pulling now sticky damp flannel from skin... bows to all then fishing eq and self to own area for a clean up and a storage of gear.... so good to have music around! ::
((back to work... it was a surprise to see everyone. :-) Hopefully can come back in maybe 5 hours but shall see... Enjoy All.))
Last edited by MadAtMcCain; 02-23-2009 at 03:48 PM..
:: entered this land late last night early morn... fell asleep in a homemade hammock made of large forked branches at ends and vines strung vertically across... then horizontal like a roped bed... piled on fan leaves ... stripped down to nakedness... entered carefully covering self with leaves... and in minutes was asleep.... ::
:: a voice speaking from a swift moving current surrounding the earth... what matter? if you believe or not... is that not you up on that cross... is that not a people up on that cross... your modern age up on that cross?... is that not your pain on that cross of life... your nation's pain on that cross of life... your children's pain on that cross of life... you see a man outside of your self on that cross?... a Jesus? I see a You... see it again... but this time as YOU... dying there... a you that generations will read about ... where are your tears for your dying self? Recognize the crucifixion as you... or is the very thought too holy... or too horrible to bear??? ::
:: is not crying for yourself allowed BY yourself?... cry for your dying self then dare to be resurrected!... you ARE the human experience... you ARE the "now"... ::
:: are you not part of the human weave of history... how many have spilled blood so that you may have the freedom... to love?... Did I ask you to bear arms for freedom's sake? or did I create of your life... to love... if a warrior then do such... if not warrior, then your purpose is to love... the warrior and the lover... the same... ::
:: stirs awake... rubs eyes... somewhere else a car horn blasts... am late! Jumps out the hammock... grabs clothing... runs down path... leaping into the real ::
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