August 2, 2018
Miranda and her three children and I were at the Shady Beach with Michelle Wood, her three children and Michelle's friend, kd.
A silver fish came swimming toward the shore on the top of the water.
It circled around and then kept coming on course, skimming the top of the water, toward land.
We were all shouting, "Look, a fish, a fish and it is swimming right towards us. Quick. Someone. Catch it."
A silver fish swimming towards us on the top of the water?
I wondered if I were inside an Indigenous legend and not in real life.
Michelle grabbed a fishing net and waded out to about the depth of her arm pits.
She reached out and caught the fish, though that is not really true.
The fish swam right into the net. She just held the net still and it swam right into it. Oh, maybe a little bit of guidance of the net on Michelle's part.
Then the fish flipped around in the net and tried to get out. Michelle was holding it as far out from her body as she could, while still managing the thrashing. There was a moment when she had a little trouble keeping it in the net.
Once on shore and slithered from the net to the fine gravel in front of us, there was a lot of discussion about the fish, though it was pretty easy to identify. All of us knew a beautiful rainbow trout. It was surely big enough to keep.
But no woman on shore had ever gutted a fish. That is what was holding us back from keeping it. If we were going to keep it, Michelle thought we should hit it in the head and get it out of its misery. Michael was wanting to pan fry it. He didn’t seem to understand the reservation of all of the women.
Someone pointed out that though the fish was still alive, it would not be for long. It had talon marks on its underbelly and with that initial mortal wound and now us keeping it out of the water for our discussion, surely it was dead.
After a great amount of consultation a child was told to paddle out in the water in his orange kayak and let the fish drop off the back to its watery grave.
We wished the paddler of the kayak had gone a little further into the water, than about 6 yards from the shore, for it looked to us like the fish was going to float right back to us, this time dead.
Someone has a picture of the underbelly of the fish with marks where it was ripped by the talons of a bird.
I will post that when it surfaces just as proof that I am not making up the story I am telling.
Arta
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| ... rainbow trout country ... But did this fish fall from the sky as in the story of "The War with the Sky People" see Secwepemc Lands and Resources |
A silver fish came swimming toward the shore on the top of the water.
It circled around and then kept coming on course, skimming the top of the water, toward land.
We were all shouting, "Look, a fish, a fish and it is swimming right towards us. Quick. Someone. Catch it."
A silver fish swimming towards us on the top of the water?
I wondered if I were inside an Indigenous legend and not in real life.
Michelle grabbed a fishing net and waded out to about the depth of her arm pits.
She reached out and caught the fish, though that is not really true.
The fish swam right into the net. She just held the net still and it swam right into it. Oh, maybe a little bit of guidance of the net on Michelle's part.
Then the fish flipped around in the net and tried to get out. Michelle was holding it as far out from her body as she could, while still managing the thrashing. There was a moment when she had a little trouble keeping it in the net.
Once on shore and slithered from the net to the fine gravel in front of us, there was a lot of discussion about the fish, though it was pretty easy to identify. All of us knew a beautiful rainbow trout. It was surely big enough to keep.
But no woman on shore had ever gutted a fish. That is what was holding us back from keeping it. If we were going to keep it, Michelle thought we should hit it in the head and get it out of its misery. Michael was wanting to pan fry it. He didn’t seem to understand the reservation of all of the women.
Someone pointed out that though the fish was still alive, it would not be for long. It had talon marks on its underbelly and with that initial mortal wound and now us keeping it out of the water for our discussion, surely it was dead.
After a great amount of consultation a child was told to paddle out in the water in his orange kayak and let the fish drop off the back to its watery grave.
We wished the paddler of the kayak had gone a little further into the water, than about 6 yards from the shore, for it looked to us like the fish was going to float right back to us, this time dead.
Someone has a picture of the underbelly of the fish with marks where it was ripped by the talons of a bird.
I will post that when it surfaces just as proof that I am not making up the story I am telling.
Arta
Wow. Such a cool story. Wondrous.
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