Monday, September 17, 2007

Autumn has hit

Wow. Overnight Autumn has hit. I'm still adjusting to this whole "season" thing. We went from humidity and 95 degree days to 70s, no humidity, and a delicious crispness in the air. In one day. The leaves even emanate a different smell. I cannot absorb the loveliness of the outside air enough. Being inside all day at the office right now is absolutely stifling, when there's so much beauty to absorb outside, just by breathing.
Soon the leaves will display their glorious palettes, in one last hurrah before dropping. I almost fear that stage: it's beautiful, the colors, but I don't like the bareness of winter here. The absense of foilage is startling, and I found it rather depressing last winter. Instead of Seasonal Affective Disorder, I seem to have Barren Tree Disorder.
So I love/dislike this whole fall thing. But I'll take it.

Friday, September 07, 2007


During Labor Day weekend, Cullen and I went out to the NC coast for some redfishing. Cullen, I should explain, is the consummate fisherman, so going out fishing with him is like being out with a guide. He’s got the boat. He knows the spots. His garage is like walking into a Bass Pro Shop. (I’ve never actually stepped into one—yet, but I’m sure that’s coming.)
This was my first time fishing with him, and now I’m starting to see what it’s all about and understand his obsession. Being out on the water is fantastic, and there’s something so relaxing about casting and waiting. During the mornings/afternoons we fished for the smaller redfish. We had some luck on the first day, but the second day was hampered by the wind.
In the evenings we went out to Pamlico Sound for the big redfish. Apparently, these fish can only be caught in NC when they spawn. They’re protected, so it’s catch and release. The second night out we were able to bring in three. Big fish—the weights ranged from 40-70 lbs, so I got in my share of fish fighting trying to get them into the boat. (My forearms still ache a bit.) Catching those fish was such a thrill: they’re such a beautiful species, and it was amazing to think that they’re so old—50-60 years.
The picture with all of the small fish is our bait—pogies. Cullen caught them with a net, and they hang out in the live well until it’s their turn to be hooked.