Fishy, fishy, where for art thou?

“It’s time for some me time so guess I will try out some fishing then?“ Gun Roswell

Fishy, fishy, where for art thou?

Taking myself down to the river, where I have heard the fish are biting, at least, that was the rumour of the neighbour who had caught the biggest catch of the year, if his tales and photoshopped insta pictures were any indication. But yeah, this is not about the catch as I can easily go to the nearest supermarket and as “how much the fish is?” No, this is about taking the time and enjoying the peace and quiet of the nature, listening to the frogs and crickets singing, maybe even the seagulls up there in the skies when I finally settle for my spot. And the point? Well, it was all about the fishing, or rather non-fishing. My gear totally simple and the lures? Well, they aren’t the best, just some homemade shiny things, in the hopes of putting on a great show. The boots of course, so not to wet my tennis shoes and the hat? Well that is a given am I right? The fisher persons fedora with all them old (or in this case new) lures attached to it. So, here I finally am, ready to act all the fishing type, but in all honesty, I just needed some peace and quiet.

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