Yesterday for a few moments, the sky took on the appearance of ripples in a stream.
Which reminded me of what seems to be a rare condition, which had occurred the day before.
According to my weather app, it had been:
“A fine day for fishing.”
That day, it would have to have been ice fishing!
Grant told me that when barometric pressure is low, fish sink and you might as well not try catching one. Whereas high pressure and clear blue skies…
He was once a keen fisherman.
It makes sense, but it was news to me.
Once when I was very young and impressionable, I was persuaded to call in sick to go fishing with some friends in the Great South Bay, off Fire Island.
It served me right that I spent the afternoon feeling ill and terrified the sailboat would tip over. I hate sailing.
As I recall, one little fish took my bait so additionally, I felt bad about that. Then as we returned to Freeport, we were eaten alive by mosquitoes.
It was not my finest hour.
Nor will this be my finest post, what with Toby under my nose and having pushed a wrong button on WP.
If I could figure out what got me here, perhaps I could find my way back but all attempts have got me into a worse muddle.
Some days, I would just start from scratch but today I have no confidence that a new start would help.
This cloud from yesterday looked to me like a familiar face, with a slightly elongated nose.
The scruffy hair, the general shape of the head.
Bad enough I see the faces all over the news. Must I really see them in the sky outside my window?
It could be either, or.
Pretty soon, Sun blew the top off the head…
…improving my view immeasurably.
It turned into another sort of creature…
…a dragon, blowing steam?
As it turned out, the “eye” of the beast…
…was Sun itself.
Glad tidings, I can report: little fishies are safe again:
“Expect poor conditions for fishing.”
Long may it remain thus.