“Standing Knee Deep” Has Become a Cliché
Admin | Jan 27, 2010 | Comments 2
By Matt Coudayre
Lots of poetry comes our way,
Stories with verse to describe the day,
Sounds, sipping trout, peace each say,
“Standing knee deep” has become a cliché.
So much of it’s worn out, little is new, something akin to Pabst original brew.
Too many stories can’t escape it,
So many writers seem to embrace it!
We’ve read about bare roots, the glimmer of water, the feel of the rod—can’t we do better?
Why has poeticizing the sport fallen victim to rut?
So much of this shouldn’t be making the cut.
The best stories use literary element, beyond the same setting, words chosen carefully—fresh writing.
A great fly fishing story is entirely graceful,
The whole experience makes the sport beautiful.
What if we took out the mountains, lost the crisp air, stood beside buildings with mud in our hair?
Standing on old soda cans in front of a head gate,
Hooking large carp we’d celebrate.
It’s an experience eloquent writing should narrate!
The sport’s inherent joys aren’t dependent upon oft-used themes, or anything else found solely on streams.
So much happens off the water,
How was conversation on the drive over?
The anticipation of fly fishing can inspire,
The duration on the road can set us on fire!
I drop the windows, crank the Stones, Can’t You Hear Me Knockin’ settles my bones.
Our rituals have become poetic,
Habitually poetic.
We leave a resort, we gift some flies,
We had a great trip, these are for you guys.
The sentiment of fly fishing with a loved one rivals the awe of a sweet pool!
And upon its reflection others should drool!
Rather than glorify a unique experience,
Exhausted descriptions run interference.
We must also write of this other beauty.
Much of what’s beautiful is due to humanity,
Let’s challenge ourselves to convey it poetically.
Filed Under: From The Editors • The Broodstock
Very nice piece…..fair, kind, gentle, and thought provoking. i think to a large degree, the answer lies within your initial question. Why…..?…..because we are truely not dealing with a “sport.”
The solution is to begin to realize why we fish, and to understand the reasons for that. And while for me to use the word “we” being as presumptious as it is…..it is also as inclusive as i can be.
Sport…..by it’s very competitive conotation is devisive. It inherantly pits us against our quarry, eachother, and God’s intention for us.
It’s a set-up to look at it that way, and especially to embrace it that way. If angling is to accomplish it’s goal…..we should find a path to a higher purpose than sport. As the preacher said, “there was a time.” Were you listening? If you do…..long enough…..and deep enough…..the poetry will take care of itself. m.j.r.
“The sentiment of fly fishing with a loved one rivals the awe of a sweet pool!
And upon its reflection others should drool!”
Very nice. The above has been it for me. Love of a woman, a son or daughter. The fish, the sky, the trees are decorations for the perfect times with those I love. I so often have been alone in a glorious moment…enjoying it yes…but thinking, ‘I wish (loved one’s name) was here now.’
You are right…the rut. Easy to be in, but I lay it to TMI and less soul. I wonder, if I had a week to live, how would I view standing ‘knee deep’ in the river. I bet I would be out of the rut.