A Day of Fishing with my Dad

I still remember that day on the day of fishing. Natural beauty was gathered instantly. I can still feel the spongy shape of winter leaves at my feet. As I am walking on the clouds, the softness of the leaves made me late, and they led me to the stream along the way to the forest. The snores of the water moved with the crispness of the air, and together they sang a fresh and clean new season promise. That year was a beautiful spring.

Like many of the people I caught, I grew up fishing. My father taught me saltwater fish when we lived in Florida, and when we moved to North Carolina I taught me about Big Mouth bus and squid. We like all kind of fishery activities, but we caught trout in the mountains immediately as our favorite. Every year he saves time of vacation to take me, sometimes my brother quotes TS Eliot, quotes "On the mountain you feel free," he often quotes him The writer took part in a long and comfortable conversation we drove there.

I posted my favorite photos to me and my dad. We are on a fishing boat. To put it more precisely, it is a squid fishing boat. I am 25 years old. I will say my father is about 57 years old. He was wearing a jacket of a dark blue zipper and wrinkled a wide belly. We are all wearing a baseball cap under the hood above my head. We are associated with cold, wind, and waves. Our hands are in our pocket. Our shoulders are bent in contact with each other. My father's beam. His face is square, his cheeks are round, his smile is proud. I also laughed. I am also very proud. I can realize how much this trip is meaningful to my father. This makes me a little confused. His love, the depth of his love, his enjoyment to me, his vulnerability to me always makes me embarrassed. With this I can not accept all his embraces. I put a lot of him. It is difficult to see his love

I began to look forward to fishing with my father in Florida. On the third or fourth trip, we met Key West 's Catch Merlin. After a day snorkeling at Dry Tortugas, 10 feet of Pike followed the old fort of my father (Barracuda of this story grows one foot each time). The following day, we got a storm to travel to Andrew, South Florida. But a few years later, my father tried to reserve us with a chartered fishing boat at Daytona Beach and regain the deep-sea connection with Todd. Because this is a bigger ship, I shared it with two college students and two middle-aged villagers.