Gone Fishing

A couple of guys getting an early start to their fishing on what was a cold, but peaceful morning at this eastern Sierra Lake.

As I released the shutter I wondered if they knew that I was over here and that I just photographed them. Then I silently wondered to myself, “how many times have I been photographed and not known it.” That’s kind of creepy to think about.

Then my mind sprinted off in a completely different direction: It’s Wednesday, don’t these guys have jobs. Did they call in sick? How many times have they skipped work to go fishing? Do their wives know they’re fishing? Do their wives know that they have a boat? They sure don’t look old enough to be retired, but maybe. Or maybe one of them got injured at work and he spent the settlement money on a pair of cubic zirconia earrings for his wife and the boat plus a shit load of new and very expensive tackle for himself and his buddy and he still has enough money left over to afford a pint of Jack, a 12-pack of PBR and a large bag of ice every day for the next 15 years.

OMG, sometimes my photographer life of early alarms, sleep deprived days, and constantly wandering wild places on frigid mornings with a numb nose and fingers that don’t do what their told cause me to think up some pretty crazy shit.

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