When The Lake Calls

By Raeanne O’Meara

There’s a never-ending internal monologue that runs through one’s mind, on those nice spring days when the sun is present and the wind absent. Both early morning and late evening have a coolness that lingers in the air, far different than the blistering afternoon heat that is sandwiched in between. This makes for excellent working conditions as you check yet another project off your to-do list. Unfortunately, those conditions are prime for something we’ve been itching to get at all winter long – out on the boat for the first fishing trip of the summer season.


In a classic “twist my rubber arm” type scenario, the to-do list was chipped away at for the better part of the day before the siren song of the lake got to be too persuasive to drown out any longer. The argument for going out was not all just fun and games; there are ocean trips looming on the horizon and it’s always nice to put the boat in the water prior to heading off on those adventures, to deal with any potential problems that may have popped up over the winter. In all honesty, it could (and should) be scribbled on the to-do list right along with all the other tasks of spring.



Feeling not an ounce of guilt as we did a rush stop at the grocery store to grab chicken burger supplies for a barbecue on the boat, the boat slipped into the water just prior to dinner time. Perusing through the tackle box, we both landed on our go-to lures – a ruby eye Wriggler and a black Apex. Old faithfuls, they deserve the first drag through the water of 2024. After the rods were set, the barbecue was fired up and soon dinner was sizzling away.


The warmth of the evening sun was balanced by the cool evening breeze that was gently sweeping off the hillside; the purr of the kicker and the chatter of gulls set the scene for an evening of near perfection. All that we needed was to see the rod pop off the downrigger with a lake trout on the end of the line.


However, there’s a reason they call it fishing and not catching. Several hours passed watching the same tick-tick-tick of the action playing on the rod tip; dinner was cooked and consumed to rave reviews. The sun finally ducked behind the hillside as it sunk lower to the horizon, signalling our return back to shore. Although we came home empty handed, months of seemingly never-ending winter are still fresh enough in the mind that we know to never ignore the call of the lake on days like these.