What a compelling story. And I didn’t see the ending in camaraderie coming. Shared humor is such an equalizer. Even when it’s at your expense. Good to remember.
I’m not sure I will ever walk barefoot in a lake again! Why have I never considered the fact that the squelchy muddy bottoms are just eons of fish poo?
As always David, you held me spell bound with the retelling of this story… as hard a day as anyone wouldn’t wish for at any age, never mind at such a gentle and yes, vulnerable age. You learned one of life’s great and abiding lessons… I know well you never forgot it either.
Thank you always - I had to look up a few words here, not knowing the first thing about fish farming! My vocabulary expanded!
Dearest Susie, I'm humbled by your generous encouragements, and most grateful for the time you offered, both to read and then of leave a note. Thank you, once again.
Ohh, goody, I was hoping someone would pick up on that little easter egg. Now, let me add one more layer... The snake, pictured is actually a large, Nerodia sipedon (we called them Diamondback Water Snakes growing up), which is often mistaken for a water moccasin and perhaps even more aggressive, though not poisonous. Their bites are painful and leave you bleeding, a thing to be avoided and they were abundant and audacious there on the fish farm. I had many encounters with one or more of them , which, given their visual similarities made for 'complicated' emotions when trying to determine a course of action in low light conditions. We had both species present in relative abundance.
I’ve not spent much time in the south, so not familiar with moccasins, but have always said I’d sooner pick up a rattlesnake than a water snake. Their temperament is nasty.
I agree, wholeheartedly. Rattlers are deadly but generally not mean. Water snakes generally seemed defiant, sneaky and pissed.
As a kid, I had caught one and had it in a large jar in my room, where my zoologist father found it a few mornings later. He was mortified. Could not imagine how I'd caught it without getting bitten and then wavered back and forth between flashes of pride and horror, realizing that his eight-year-old son was out having grand adventures while he was off doing research in Oklahoma bat caves, and well past protecting, but for the knowledge he'd passed along already.
I'm so grateful for your note, Over-by..., and grateful that the image pulled you in. I have virtually no pictures from way back then, but did go back to visit, surreptitiously, several years ago, tracked down and got to hang out with the fella, that here I call Mose, and did shoot a handful of generic scenes from around the ponds. I played with one of those for a while the other morning to try to give it that feeling of immense, wide open, profoundly lonely possibility. I'm so glad it called to you and pulled you in.
I love every bit of this chapter---I can see it feel it hear it taste it---you weave a wild intensity upward through these scenes of seining catfish shit; the aftermath had me laughing so hard! And then I just wanted to hug you and shout "bravo" over and over---that in that most vulnerable moment you let yourself be so real, real enough to toss any shame to the wind, real enough to laugh because dam it's so funny, and dam you'd worked shoulder to burning shoulder with those guys---and you were proved worthy.
You, the most real, vulnerable, naked you, right in the middle of their circle, totally accepted---how crazy-brave and beautiful this whole chapter is! I could feel your determined inner spark shining up all through. Bravo! Bravo! and with just the best ending...or should I say, the best beginning...
I have not had many friends as generous as you, Toni, and your notes are always a bit like Christmas morning. It is a gift to be seen as I feel seen by you and your careful, joyous reads. I am humbled by such kindness, and grateful that this story spoke to you...
You are such a darn good writer‼️
What a compelling story. And I didn’t see the ending in camaraderie coming. Shared humor is such an equalizer. Even when it’s at your expense. Good to remember.
"...Shared humor is such an equalizer. Even when it’s at your expense."
I thank you for the kindness of such a thoughtful comment, Steffany. 🙏
Dis mighty fine writ’n Dave. Jes keep’r com’n, ya hear!
Loud and clear, Mississippi Mills, I read you loud and clear.
Course, I'll do my best.
Been giggling ever since I found your note.
Thank you!
I’m not sure I will ever walk barefoot in a lake again! Why have I never considered the fact that the squelchy muddy bottoms are just eons of fish poo?
As always David, you held me spell bound with the retelling of this story… as hard a day as anyone wouldn’t wish for at any age, never mind at such a gentle and yes, vulnerable age. You learned one of life’s great and abiding lessons… I know well you never forgot it either.
Thank you always - I had to look up a few words here, not knowing the first thing about fish farming! My vocabulary expanded!
Dearest Susie, I'm humbled by your generous encouragements, and most grateful for the time you offered, both to read and then of leave a note. Thank you, once again.
Thanks David. I love the water moccasin as an exclamation point to complicated.
Ohh, goody, I was hoping someone would pick up on that little easter egg. Now, let me add one more layer... The snake, pictured is actually a large, Nerodia sipedon (we called them Diamondback Water Snakes growing up), which is often mistaken for a water moccasin and perhaps even more aggressive, though not poisonous. Their bites are painful and leave you bleeding, a thing to be avoided and they were abundant and audacious there on the fish farm. I had many encounters with one or more of them , which, given their visual similarities made for 'complicated' emotions when trying to determine a course of action in low light conditions. We had both species present in relative abundance.
https://open.substack.com/pub/davideperry/p/still-un-snakebit?r=2bfb89&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web
I’ve not spent much time in the south, so not familiar with moccasins, but have always said I’d sooner pick up a rattlesnake than a water snake. Their temperament is nasty.
I agree, wholeheartedly. Rattlers are deadly but generally not mean. Water snakes generally seemed defiant, sneaky and pissed.
As a kid, I had caught one and had it in a large jar in my room, where my zoologist father found it a few mornings later. He was mortified. Could not imagine how I'd caught it without getting bitten and then wavered back and forth between flashes of pride and horror, realizing that his eight-year-old son was out having grand adventures while he was off doing research in Oklahoma bat caves, and well past protecting, but for the knowledge he'd passed along already.
Great stories David. You caught it young.
What a fascinating insight into gainful employment! The picture/painting pulled me in, and I read it straight through.
I'm so grateful for your note, Over-by..., and grateful that the image pulled you in. I have virtually no pictures from way back then, but did go back to visit, surreptitiously, several years ago, tracked down and got to hang out with the fella, that here I call Mose, and did shoot a handful of generic scenes from around the ponds. I played with one of those for a while the other morning to try to give it that feeling of immense, wide open, profoundly lonely possibility. I'm so glad it called to you and pulled you in.
I love every bit of this chapter---I can see it feel it hear it taste it---you weave a wild intensity upward through these scenes of seining catfish shit; the aftermath had me laughing so hard! And then I just wanted to hug you and shout "bravo" over and over---that in that most vulnerable moment you let yourself be so real, real enough to toss any shame to the wind, real enough to laugh because dam it's so funny, and dam you'd worked shoulder to burning shoulder with those guys---and you were proved worthy.
You, the most real, vulnerable, naked you, right in the middle of their circle, totally accepted---how crazy-brave and beautiful this whole chapter is! I could feel your determined inner spark shining up all through. Bravo! Bravo! and with just the best ending...or should I say, the best beginning...
(You know I admire you, and always will)
I have not had many friends as generous as you, Toni, and your notes are always a bit like Christmas morning. It is a gift to be seen as I feel seen by you and your careful, joyous reads. I am humbled by such kindness, and grateful that this story spoke to you...