It was hard to pick where to begin fishing, he had the pond to himself. A few casts and one pole was bending,as he called out in enjoyment, “I have a hawg!” Yes, a nice bass appeared with a short struggle followed by many more. A few bluegills also attacked his worms giving the morning a special feel while enjoying this pond, alone at last. He had brought many people here, but many times spent his time putting on hooks and worms for others unable to master this art. Often a pole with a fish on was passed to a silent gent, only to see a smile that lit up his world and a variety of stories, some told with nods and more smiles when reiterated at dinner. A friend asked at coffee the next day how big some he had caught were, and he said they grew each time the story was told. He remembered taking his children to visit a retired priest and the size would eventually reach around their backs. They knew the pleasure this man had hearing their tall tales, and often had them beefed up before arriving at his apartment with prodding from their father. The fish story had to be related to similar tales of folklore, the retelling often had a way of changing for the listeners in the audience. Once told to the priest the stories sometimes would be taken to other listeners in this apartment dwelling, giving pleasure to many who had or had not experienced the thrill of landing a fish and often listening just to enjoy an interaction with the young storytellers. With no worms left in his cooler, he reeled in another largemouth bass, and called it a day. A great day of sharing and caring with the outdoors, out on the prairie.
They get bigger when you pull in some weeds as well.
Two at once had me catching the handle of my second rod with my knees when it started flipping out of my rod holder.I flipped the first up on the bank and reeled in the second.