The Fly Fisherman

I was already down when I ran into the Fly Fisherman today. I was taking a walk on a trail by our house and noticed some yellow crime-scene tape. I learned a man had brutally beaten and sexually assaulted a woman yesterday on that trail. My heart sinks when this happens. What kind of man does this to a woman? Are we really at the point where women can't walk alone? I was pondering such sad questions when I stumbled along a guy with a long fly reel and some fishing tackle.

"I didn't know the fly fishing was good down here," I said.

"Oh ya, man. It's incredible if you know what you're doing."

"Why do you like to fly fish?"

He thought for moment. "I love how complex and involved it is. With bait fishing all you do is slap a worm on the hook and toss it into the water. With this type of fishing you have to know all the different tackle. You need to find out what type of flys are hitting in that particular spot, and you have to shimmy and move your fly to make it look real, or the fish won't bite it. There's nothing better."

This guy had no idea about a quarter-mile up the trail was a crime scene of a woman's near-death, and he certainly didn't know how that crime scene affected me. But it was so refreshing to hear how he loved fly fishing for its complexities rather than its easiness.

Life is complex. Even though I don't understand why certain things happen to people, or why people do certain things to others, that doesn't mean life isn't beautiful.

We're gonna be alright.