“Look at this Wonderful Place for a Father and Daughter to Fly Fish”

Eleven Mile Canyon is a wonderful place to fly fish for anyone, but it seems especially wonderful for a father and daughter trip. Yesterday, I helped out Ken and his daughter, Bonny.

Not that they needed my help. They were hooking fish up and down the river on San Juan worms, RS2’s and black midges. I helped do some netting and releasing but Dad had already taught his daughter how to net and release fish.

Dad was fishing well. Really well.  Bonny, though, was out fishing him (funny how that often happens with Father’s and daughters). The fishing was so good, and they were doing so well, that I wondered  why I was even there. Was I really needed? They did not need much guiding. 

Yet, right from the start they had my attention because whenever I see a Dad and daughter spending special time on a river, it tugs on my heart.  I have two daughters of my own and we have spent special time on rivers together. So, while they had my attention I started to wonder if I was here to learn something from them or maybe even the rocks themselves.  It felt like I was in a “thin place” and I was about to become aware of something. 

As we fished,  Ken and I talked. I told him I had just  retired  from education and I was mainly now only  guiding on this river. We both spoke of how we did not like how certain aspects of  “religion” can be ugly.  We both agreed there was a creator to the beauty we were looking at. Ken got quiet for a moment and gazed at the sunlight on the granite canyon walls and then said, “Anthony, look around you. Take it all in. You are living my dream. I would love to retire and move here and be able to fish this river all the time.”

He repeated the phrase:  “Look around you. Take it all  in.”

“Anthony, Look around you. Take it all in.”

“Anthony, Look around you. Take it all in.” 

“Look around you and take it all in.”  

But can I learn what it is that ‘he’ was wanting me to see?