Weather-wise, it was a decidedly unpleasant day. Low clouds blocked all views of the distant mountains, while the chilling wind drove spitting rain through our hair and against our faces. We were at the shore of the lake to introduce a West Coast visitor to the fine art of fishing. We had a container of worms and an old rod and reel, but the wet wind numbed our fingers when we tried to thread a wiggling worm onto a hook.

We persevered. Finally, the worm and hook were dangling in the water, awaiting a hungry mouth. We waited with them, and waited and waited. Nothing seemed to be running except the wind.

Not far off, two ducks came in to land on the water. Unfortunately, they were too far away for me to identify them clearly. It wasn’t easy to pick out their markings. Why hadn’t I thought to bring along the binoculars? There was a quick flash of white. Hooded Mergansers perhaps? These are such lovely ducks. The males have white breasts with two black bars on each side and their black heads have fan-shaped white crests which they raise to entice the females. Add in brown flanks and you have one very attractive creature.

Suddenly from not far away we heard the call of a loon. “Listen!” we cried as the bird once again gave its haunting call. A few minutes later, the loon and a companion came into view. They are such stunning birds with their brilliant red eyes and all-over black and white coloration. Down into a deep dive went one bird, in search of the same fish we were seeking. A few minutes later, it popped up several yards away. The birds seemed to take turns hunting. Apparently they were having the same poor luck fishing that we were.

Suddenly, just off a jutting of land, I noticed a fin going around in circles. We decided to investigate as this was the closest we’d been to seeing a fish in nearly an hour. We scrambled down the rocks to move closer to the still visible fin. Straight down the fish’s head pointed as it swam in circles, and then the fish flipped to one side before moving to a new area. It wasn’t long before we saw a second fish doing the same thing. Our visitor was happy to actually see a couple fish in the water, but we knew that, with spawning in mind, these fish weren’t going to be tempted by any wormy bait. So, we simply watched and enjoyed this glimpse into nature’s way of creating the next generation of fish.

The cold and wet had now become distinctly uncomfortable. It was time to admit defeat and give up on the fishing. We trudged back to the car, consoling our visitor that next time would be better. On the drive home, we decided to take a detour to show him more of our beautiful area. We choose a spot with wide, mown fields and views of the lake and several islands.

Despite the low clouds, he could see enough to recognize that the surroundings were truly spectacular. The wind drove the lake water into small waves, while mist and fog alternately shrouded then revealed the islands. We sat in the car and talked about how special the lake is in all the seasons of the year: reflecting the beauty of the fall foliage, white with snow and dotted with bobhouses in winter, glinting with sunlight in spring and summer.

Suddenly, one of us noticed a movement over near the woods. Out walked two wild turkeys, a hen and a jake. Heads jerking out and in as they walked, they seemed totally unaware of us. What a treat to watch them.

The turkeys poked around in the short grass, searching for seeds and insects. They’ll eat just about anything. They’re so ugly that they are actually beautiful. I look for them whenever I pass a field, especially one where corn had been grown for they love to search there for food.

Sometimes in the summer when you are driving down a road, you’ll see a hen followed by a dozen or more young, then another hen. The little ones scurry to keep up, while a hen will cluck to them, “Hurry! Hurry!” Our two moved off over a rise and out of view.

It was time to head home. On the way, we counted up our haul:

Fish taken: none
Fish seen: two
Ducks seen: two
Loons seen: two
Turkeys seen: two
        
All in all, not a bad day of fishing.

By Susan Poirier, Master Gardener