The sun is barely visible over the horizon and the early morning dew still rests upon the grass.
The world has not yet awakened and the hustle and bustle of the day is yet to begin.
The silhouette of a man near the shoreline is perceptible only to the sharp eye.
It is a fisherman leaning into his folding chair.
One hand deep into his coat pocket and the other holding a cup from which steam slowly rises and dissipates into the air.
What better way to welcome the new day, than rising at the crack of dawn to get to the bay before other fishermen and weekend travelers arrive.
Fish are easier to catch in the early morning, when they swim closer to the water's edge.
They feed in shallow waters and are not yet frightened from the noises that arrive when the world is awake.
As the sun rises, and the day is in full swing, fishing becomes less interesting and the attention of the fisherman turns away from the water and toward the catch lying still in his bucket.
He carefully takes each fish, cleans it, rinses it off with fresh water from his cooler, and tosses it into a plastic bag, which he seals with a vacuum food sealer.
This is no amateur and it is clear to see that he is, in fact, a game saver pro, experienced in the best ways to keep what he catches fresh.
He tosses each sealed package of game into a cooler filled with ice and closes the lid.
As weekend travelers slowly begin to arrive, and the sun is mid-way along its path across the cloudless sky, the fisherman folds his chair, packs up his pole, gathers his cooler and other items, and slowly heads away from the shore toward the parking area.
As he loads his gear into his truck, he watches couples with young children unpack their picnic baskets and smiles as he observes dads helping their children set up their fishing poles near the shoreline.
He remembers back when he used to come to the same place with his father many years ago.
The only thing that has changed is the type of pole used and the fancier gadgets to go along with it.
Back when he was a kid, fish was tossed into a pail and covered in ice.
The cleaning and conserving was done at home.
Today, to his relief there are ways of keeping fish at its freshest by using a vacuum food sealer on site.
All the air is removed from the plastic bag, guaranteeing that the fish is protected from freezer burn, as it seals in the flavor.
What has not changed, is the unwritten law of the true fisherman, to take from the ocean only what he knows he will eat and waste nothing that he catches.
As he drives away from the bay, he glances into his rear-view mirror; bids the shore and fish a farewell, and promises them to return next month, in the early morning hours when the sun is barely visible along the horizon and the fish dance in shallow waters.
The world has not yet awakened and the hustle and bustle of the day is yet to begin.
The silhouette of a man near the shoreline is perceptible only to the sharp eye.
It is a fisherman leaning into his folding chair.
One hand deep into his coat pocket and the other holding a cup from which steam slowly rises and dissipates into the air.
What better way to welcome the new day, than rising at the crack of dawn to get to the bay before other fishermen and weekend travelers arrive.
Fish are easier to catch in the early morning, when they swim closer to the water's edge.
They feed in shallow waters and are not yet frightened from the noises that arrive when the world is awake.
As the sun rises, and the day is in full swing, fishing becomes less interesting and the attention of the fisherman turns away from the water and toward the catch lying still in his bucket.
He carefully takes each fish, cleans it, rinses it off with fresh water from his cooler, and tosses it into a plastic bag, which he seals with a vacuum food sealer.
This is no amateur and it is clear to see that he is, in fact, a game saver pro, experienced in the best ways to keep what he catches fresh.
He tosses each sealed package of game into a cooler filled with ice and closes the lid.
As weekend travelers slowly begin to arrive, and the sun is mid-way along its path across the cloudless sky, the fisherman folds his chair, packs up his pole, gathers his cooler and other items, and slowly heads away from the shore toward the parking area.
As he loads his gear into his truck, he watches couples with young children unpack their picnic baskets and smiles as he observes dads helping their children set up their fishing poles near the shoreline.
He remembers back when he used to come to the same place with his father many years ago.
The only thing that has changed is the type of pole used and the fancier gadgets to go along with it.
Back when he was a kid, fish was tossed into a pail and covered in ice.
The cleaning and conserving was done at home.
Today, to his relief there are ways of keeping fish at its freshest by using a vacuum food sealer on site.
All the air is removed from the plastic bag, guaranteeing that the fish is protected from freezer burn, as it seals in the flavor.
What has not changed, is the unwritten law of the true fisherman, to take from the ocean only what he knows he will eat and waste nothing that he catches.
As he drives away from the bay, he glances into his rear-view mirror; bids the shore and fish a farewell, and promises them to return next month, in the early morning hours when the sun is barely visible along the horizon and the fish dance in shallow waters.