Near the end of September each year I get this feeling of loss. There is an unexplained hollowness inside me. For the longest time I could not understand why.
My medical problems as of late have caused those feelings to be even worse. I sat down last night and mourned my lack of being able to go fishing because of my knee and back problems over a couple beers.
It wasn’t just the fishing I miss. I missed the December scouting trips. I miss the virgin snow.
The outdoors serves as a battery charger for my soul. I have been bashful about testing my knee and back for fear of re- injuring them.
I have decided to go fishing tomorrow and dam the consequences. I do not want to risk not seeing the new pine cones budding.
My life would be quite hollow if I could not see the first blossoms on my favorite plum tree grove and smell it’s amazing aroma.
I don’t know what I would do if the door to the outdoors was ever closed for me. I would wither away and cease to exist.
“Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after.”
– Henry David Thoreau
