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The wind is howling outside, and the wood stove is making a sound like an old man sucking on his false teeth. But it's warm inside, and I'll stay up for awhile longer to feed the fire.
To while away an early winter's evening I searched out some art by Winslow Homer. His skill at capturing the essence of trout is unsurpassed, and his images of the Adirondacks--the birthplace of American fly fishing--and the men who fished there, have a way of realigning your soul.
I watch fishing videos online--of which there is a plethora--and I enjoy most of them. But remember, these aren't videos, they're paintings. What I like about paintings is that they don't move, they move you. And you can go as deep into them as you wish, and stay as long as you wish. YouTube has nothing to say about it.
I hope you can go fishing where you are, but if not, I invite you to go along with Winslow. You'll come back feeling real good even though you never left your chair.
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