Robins vs. Relatives

Robins are like relatives. You hardly see them until there is something to get, like when a rich uncle or aunt dies. In the case of robins nobody died, which is a good thing. So why am I comparing robins to relatives?

We usually get a lot of robins in the Spring. One year I counted over a hundred on the grass and in the trees. They hang around for a few days and then they disappear. A few stay behind for the summer. They come after a rain to search for worms or they take a bath in the birdbaths with plenty of splashing.

We have a couple of chokecherry trees in our yard. This morning I saw a large flock of robins congregating in the big tree. At first I wondered why, and then it dawned on me. They came for the cherries. You see, the tree is laden with juicy, black chokecherries. And robins love chokecherries. Years ago my wife used to make jelly from chokecherries. I collected wild cherries, but now she doesn’t make it anymore. With the kids out of the house nobody eats jelly. I eat mostly honey. So it’s fortunate that we don’t need the chokecherries from our tree. We may never get any because of the birds, even though we have a smaller tree that also has plenty of berries. Somehow the birds don’t seem to find that one until later. They seem to prefer the one closest to the house.

I went fishing for Goldeye last week. We only caught seven between the three of us. Not that great when the limit is 10 per angler, but there was one conciliation...all the fish were large. The smallest was 32 cm. The other six all qualified for a Master Angler award, but we didn’t bother. The season for Goldeye is just beginning and I am hoping for larger fish. The minimum for an award is 35.5 cm (14 inch.). The waves were quite high again, but I was okay. I took a Gravol pill an hour before we went on the water and I was fine all day. I even ate my lunch.

It was a nice day. A bit cloudy, but sometimes the sun did make an appearance. There is nothing better than sitting in a boat with good friends and watching the waves and the float bopping on the water, hoping for that sudden jerk on the line which signals the bait has been taken. Landing the fish is, of course, an even greater thrill, especially with all the yelling going on when the man with the net misses the fish on the first swipe. Sometimes a fish manages to jump of the hook just before it can be brought close enough and then everyone is in agreement that it was a huge fish, even if deep down we all know it was just barely larger than a minnow. But that’s what fish-tales are made of. It’s all part of the fun. I'm looking forward to the next fishing trip, which, hopefully, will be more successful.

Seven beautiful Goldeye

Nothing can beat a day like this