Things To Do When the Fish Aren't Biting

I took Sebastian with me to the dam at Yellowwood. I thought it might be interesting to hang a nightcrawler out where I caught those big bluegill the other night.

There's no better way to spend a gorgeous October afternoon.

We put two bobbers out over big juicy worms and waited to haul in the fish. And waited. And waited.

There was time to explore the shoreline. We found a woolly worm, or woolly bear caterpillar, if you prefer. They have a place in folklore as predictors of winter weather. According to the formula, the more black hair, the more severe the coming winter. Looks like a mild winter for this area.

We also found a frog. We thought about catching it but it was gone before we could take a step toward it.

And we broke out the snacks, sat on the dam, and shared the big yucks. One of the great things about three-year-olds is that they laugh at almost anything.

We checked the worms--no teeth marks. We recast, waited some more, then went for a walk. Sebastian found a trail and couldn't resist it. Into the woods we went.

The woods were full of sounds: the whisper of falling leaves, the rattle and plop of falling acorns, the chirp of chipmunks, the rustle of squirrels, and the cries of blue jays and woodpeckers.

Sebastian loved it. He would have hiked all the way around the lake. I got him to turn around by promising that we would hike across the dam to see what was over there.

We went back and checked our bobbers--nothing--and then struck out across the dam.

The old spillway was interesting, and it was an enjoyable challenge to pick our way over the stones by the creek.

We went back across the dam and checked our bobbers again. Still nothing. I rebaited the hooks, cast them way out, and we went back to the woods. Sebastian took his supplies with him this time.

The first time we had gone into the woods I taught Sebastian about being quiet, and stopping and listening in hopes of seeing birds and animals. This time he was leading the way, as usual, and I started saying something to him. He turned and shushed me. "Quiet, Grandpa! We need to be quiet."

Attaboy.

We went off trail down to the lakeshore to see if we could see our bobbers from there--I still had this notion that it was a fishing trip. Sebastian was fearless and broke trail for me.

We couldn't see the bobbers but we saw other things. It was fun to watch acorns plooping into the lake, and Sebastian was good at finding different kinds of fungi.

I cut a sapling and carved him a walking stick while we sat on a log and talked quietly about what we saw and heard. Sebastian has always loved to have a stick in his hand, and he put this one to good use.

Once again, he would have gladly hiked around the lake, but we eventually turned around and walked back out into the slanting sun of early evening. We checked our bobbers again. Still motionless. We checked our worms. They hadn't been touched.

We decided that even if the fish weren't hungry, we were, and packed up and headed home for supper.