I am sitting in a hospital.  A friend called and asked if I would be his transport for a minor procedure today.  All is going well.  I am waiting.  The sun is shining through giant windows in the sitting area.  My mind is flowing back to a sunny day spent last month with my friend Rainbow in British Columbia.

The last few days of our time together were going to be spent in the country.  We drove about three hours to her cabin in Roche Lake Provincial Park.  It was just before the forest fires started so we had clear skies and sunshine.  The lake is tucked into the landscape, surrounded by evergreen forest. 

On one of our days, we took a long walk in search of wildflowers. There is a trail system that winds all around the lake.  It took us through meadows and pine trees, up hill and down.  We explored a neighboring lake, spying on the wildlife.  We watched osprey feeding their young in a nest, and squirrels busily moving from tree to tree.  There were plenty of flowers despite the peak having occurred a week prior.  Damselflies, dragonflies, and butterflies entertained us as they flew all about.

We spent the time chatting and snapping photographs.  When we arrived back at the cabin I was surprised to see we had covered five miles of territory.  The time flew by.

Naturally, we spent some time on the water.  Roche Lake holds a great population of trout.  It is healthy water with plenty to feed and fatten the fish.  Rainbow is not only a gracious host, she is an incredible fishing guide.  The fish were not as cooperative as we would have liked, but that is why they call it “fishing”, not “catching”!

On one of our outings, we anchored near a small island with a nice reed bed on the border.  There was a large dead tree on one end of the island.  A bald eagle was perched high on a limb.  Waiting.  We took it as a sign that we should wait there too.  The eagle did not seem bothered by our presence.  We got our gear ready to go and began casting from our respective ends of the boat. 

I am not used to still-water fishing.  Most of my fishing time has been spent on water that is moving past me.  When fishing with flies, I have learned how to fish the currents.  On this day, I was a newbie.  Fortunately, Rainbow is a patient guide.  She pointed out the best places to cast, recommended patterns of stripping in the line, and talked about the bug life and habitat.  We were seeing many damselflies.  We were not seeing many fish.  Now and again, our hopes raised when a fish would surface.  Usually, it was a splashy rise.  Always, it was well away from us.  We waited.

At Rainbow’s recommendation we were fishing under the surface with a pattern representing a damselfly nymph.  I recalled seeing them in the water, and know their movement patterns can be a bit erratic.  My OCD had been controlling my fly retrieval pattern.  I was stripping the fly back to me fairly short, regular strips.  Very methodical.  Very UNLIKE a damselfly nymph.  I cast the fly out again, and decided to break the cycle.  I gave two fast short jerks on the line, paused, and stripped slowly.  Then I waited, just a second. 

Bam!

I had a fish on!  Rainbow quickly pulled in her line and cheered me on.  She manned the net as I played the fish.  A loon popped up on the surface of the water about 20 feet away.  “He is waiting for your fish,” Rainbow explained. 

The fish was quickly brought in, photographed, and released.  The loon disappeared.  We smiled in our success.  Although it was not the biggest fish in the lake (many go five pounds), it was a gorgeous fish, well worth the wait.

As I sit here and wait, I am happy for my memories.  I am confident I will not wait too many years to return to fish with Rainbow.  I am happy I can be here today and wait for my friend.  As I look at the patient status monitor I see my waiting will not be too much longer today.

The older I get, the better I get at waiting.  I am far from perfect, but I am patient. 

More often than not, the waiting is well worth it.