Yesterday I made a visit to a marina here on Indian Lake. (The only marina here!) As I spoke to Bob, I thought it has been a hundred years since I was here last. I was a teenager. My parents were contemplating purchasing it.

My parents and I were camping on an island and each day we would head to the marina to fill tanks for another day of water skiing, fishing and getting to where we needed to be.

I also drove by the Lake Store, where we trudge up the hill from the lake to purchase groceries and walk back down. One of the greatest treats there was the 42” licorice whips. Yep, they were good.

As I awoke this morning and walked the beach with coffee in hand, I remembered the days where my day would be out there on beach of one of the islands we would stay at. A cup of coffee in one hand, smoking a Camel. His pole would rest in the stick he would find that would be just right for the task. He would keep his eye on the red and white bobber as it moved through the water as a 12” sucker minnow would “call” to a large fish. Everything would be serene until tat bobber would go under. Then my dad was poetry in motion. He would play the fish until he could get it close to shore, calling for one of us children to “get the net”.

Even as the fog rose off the waters this morning, I saw my dad. Standing there. Waiting. As he turned to me, I was surprised. If I have learned one thing in life, it is keep you eye on the bobber.