Sunday, April 24, 2016

The Old Man and His Fishing Pole

When I was a little girl my mother owned this figurine of a Chinese fisherman.  I remember her telling me that it was an inexpensive piece from a dime store, but I kept it after my mother's death because it reminded me of her and my first father, who died when I was 7.
      He is so old now that his hat is chipped and his fishing pole is gone, but he still sits out waiting for a fish to bite.  He's had so much practice that he doesn't need the pole anymore.  His fishing is spiritual in nature; he catches bits of truth and mindfully ponders them.  Wisdom and age have weathered his face and whitened his hair.  His life is simple; bare feet, sunshine, and a basket for thoughts.  I find him charming!

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In addition to being a violist, I am a wife and mother (three sons). I dabble in writing, handwork, sewing and photography.