Ann and I have a fair amount of irreverence for this day though that didn't stop me from calling her this morning and wishing her a Happy Valentine's Day. She even snuck me a card that I opened this morning in my hotel room in Atlanta. It was a delightfully snarky card that was everything that Valentine's Day isn't. I guess even the irreverent can't avoid the entreaties of the good Saint.
The bulk of today will be spent in a large conference room working through the problems du jour; nothing piscatorial. I crossed over two small rivers this morning on the way to the office. They looked more like drainage canals than rivers proper; something that a brownliner might appreciate. But they were clearly not single hearted, much less big two-hearted and I fear by the time I return to my local trout streams mid-week rain will do what it's done for the past twelve months -- namely, ruining weekend fishing.
We anglers have a patron saint -- Zeno of Verona. Our big day is apparently April 12th which is darn close to opening day in most places. Unfortunately, Zeno hails from the arid regions of Africa so most likely he's a saltwater angler though tales are told of him fishing the banks of the Adige which originates in the Alps. Are there trout up that way?
I know my casting has been, at times, affected by demons and apparently casting out demons was one of Saint Zeno's specialties; the man must have slung a mean line. And like Zeno, and most of you, I'm regularly baptized by the waters, healing my soul, giving me hope, sustaining me for a while as we make our way in this world.
I hope your Valentine's is sweet.
|He looks like an angler who|
was just skunked.