Season of Sojourns | Volume IV: Draft

REFLECT

reconnect

We can see it coming, but which way its going, we don’t know. All we hope for is that it passes, leaving us unscathed and unharmed.

As the skies darken and the gloom starts to blow in, look for the light. It’s there along the folds of the sea or in the sways of a palm. We’ll lose course, but find a new heading. Uncharted waters lie for a chance of discovery.

You just have to know where to look.

A N EW D I R E CT I O N

The cellular reception dropped out a few miles back, but I leaned forward anyways running the bow towards the horizon. The news keeps cycling and the headlines carry on, but all of that fades away along sun bleached seas.

With each wave there was a gentle lift and a graceful fall. The wind whispered a subtle hymn as the sun caressed my shoulders. I was completely embraced by my surroundings.

Away from it all.

Come up with a story!

Stillness of Solitude

I heard the rumors, or more correctly, the folk lores about these beautiful rolling tarpon up the creek.

“Just keep going deeper, further, and you’ll find them. Go up around the bend. You’ll see.”

That was the plan anyways. To wake up early and venture up the creek in a kayak, completely enveloped in the quiet, pursuing the ever elusive tarpon.

In short, that didn’t happen. As hard as I looked and as quiet as I was, I never noticed the silver half moons breaching out of the midnight water. They just weren’t there.

Frustration took hold. I began questioning everything. Then I looked around and was overtaken by a wave of serenity. The breeze blew along the bank chiming the trees to sing their chorus and birds flew in from above. I didn’t move, letting nature function on its own, and in that moment I found myself in the stillness of solitude.

IMMERSED IN ISOLATION

We think about it often. Some abandoned stretch of sand where you can be alone with your thoughts. The water gently rolls into the sand, a distant seagull glides along the breeze and the sun starts its dance along the surface of the sea. Paradise awaits.

When you’re alone and walking along the coast, your mind starts to wander. You become aware and enlightened of your surroundings. All the senses are engaged and you’re completely connected to the wilderness.

Where the waves recede forms a natural path for you to follow. Keeping your eyes peeled to the shallows in search of shadows, you’ll gently and quietly cast your fly out and strip your line in. A rhythm begins to form. You fall in synch with your surroundings; eyes scanning the surface, hands feeling every vibration in the line, just waiting for that moment where it’s you and the fish.

Then it hits like a bolt of lightning. You’re energized, ecstatic and elated that you’ve made contact. Now it’s just a game of give and take until one of you calls it quits. This is the nature of fishing. It doesn’t always end with a battle, but that’s besides the point. It’s about going on a quest, a journey to the find something new - even if it’s about yourself.

When you’re completely remote, it’s easy to reflect as the gradient hues of blue reach out towards the horizon.

You’ll gently cast the buzzin’ fly as you hum a Zevon tune.