Flying Fish

Along with some late-June Saskatchewan sunshine, I caught my first fish.

Brett and I, along with his dad, brother and his girlfriend parked ourselves on the dock of the Melville Dam this past weekend and enjoyed a memorable summer afternoon. Actually, we were all lucky enough to catch one. But what made my catch especially memorable was in between the time the fish was yanked from his home in the lake and when he appeared on our plates, accompanied with fried onions and alongside a deserved glass of merlot.

Brett claims to be unaware of who flopped around more after the catch – me, the city girl who up until that evening got her fish from Safeway, or the Pickerel, itself. This is fair to ponder.

The fish gave his best impression of a soaring Sparrow on a mission and zipped across the dock without giving any of us much chance to process what was happening. Still connected to the line, the lassoed fish wrangled free and spent the remaining 10 seconds of his life bounding and squirming underneath our chairs, almost sending mine off the pier. Brett pounced on him and won the battle — perfect time for a quick pic – fist-full of fish and all.

These are some photographs of the day.

beach10 dockbrett11 fishing1 fishing2 fishing4 fishing6 fishing7 fishing8 fishing9 fishing13

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