NOW THAT THE PARK has become my second home, no doubt you'll be seeing a lot more, Dear Reader, of the other folks who populate it (Well, mostly they're just visitors; no one calls it home like I do!)
Today there were two fishermen. One of them was only there for the sport of fishing, so he said. "They're all bottom-feeders! Fortunately, I don't eat fish." The other guy didn't say too much about his intentions. He agreed that these fish would not be so tasty. "They're catfish," he said. "Did you ever eat catfish from this area? They're grainy, hardly have any flavor!"
"Look at all of them down there! Can you see them?" they asked me.
I stared and stared at the water, looking for some kind of fish. "Nope," I said.
And then suddenly those fish jumped right out of their camouflage--a whole little school of them! Each was about ten inches long.
"This seems kind of unfair to them," said the non-fish-eating guy. "This will be so easy!"
"Okay, then," I told them. "I'm walking on...making a loop. I'll be back in ten minutes to see what you've got!"
But, nine minutes later ("That wasn't ten minutes!" they accused me), they hadn't caught a one!
The Non-fish-eater had been persistently dangling his worm in front of a non-biter. "I think he's vegetarian!" he explained.
"Hmm. Well, you've got nine more minutes!" I warned, and set off on my fourth loop.
Those catfish were wily, however. They'd still managed to avoid the hooks when I came round again!
"Okay, that's it," I said. "I'm leaving. Good luck!"
Then I leaned down and looked at those catfish, swimming in the sunny creek. "And good luck to you, too!" I told them.
(I have no idea where that
good luck landed)