tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40905346140068479222011-12-25T22:13:37.909-08:00Kentucky Jim's Fish TalesPoems, Essays and Other Ramblings of an Illiterate Fly FishermanKentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.comBlogger201100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-15884416482558498972011-04-22T10:29:00.000-07:002011-04-22T10:44:57.386-07:00Fishing for a FriendI occasionally fish a small river not known for giving up large fish. It is an easy stream to wade, not too deep, more like a shallow spring creek, really. Summertime sometimes brings low water; and the willows lining both of its banks ensure that most of your casts and drifts will be short. But there are cut banks with grass hanging over the edges, and riffles filled with Caddis pupa and Mayfly Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-78604549554485035272011-03-24T16:04:00.000-07:002011-03-29T17:42:08.329-07:00Walking Into the PostcardOnce, several summers ago, on a small stream meandering out of the Sierra Nevada mountains several hundred miles north, I almost caught a fish. Oh, I’ve caught many fish, some of them pretty big, but this one was different.
This particular fish lived in a type of stream we in the western states call a spring creek. It flows silently through a large meadow on the eastern flank of the highest Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-58111203834669772022011-03-05T21:58:00.000-08:002011-03-11T22:14:56.817-08:00Salmon in the BayDaylight slips away
as the fog rolls in
turning blue sky gray
bringing down the last light
to the ground,
caressing the tops of
towering redwoods,
the curtain comes down
on the last act of day
melting the sky into the ground.
Curiously now gone,
leaving only a promise
of the night not yet here
as the earth turns its back
to the sun.
Ground and the sky are
both one now.
Bright lights on Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-3068690619732311202010-11-20T12:58:00.000-08:002010-11-21T19:39:29.709-08:00A Poem for Julia, on the Occasion of Her Twentieth BirthdayLife’s in a comfortable bed
with down blankets
and plenty of pillows
on a cool rainy November day.
Hot chocolate and a good book,
the cat moved to steal his warm spot,
rain beating down on the eaves
bringing sleep between chapters,
no longer the sound of dry leaves,
carrying suspense away
like water in the gutters.
© 2010 James P. WebbKentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-56319632544295660972010-11-07T21:29:00.000-08:002010-11-07T21:29:11.536-08:00UntitledLike an owl moving silently through the Forrest,
great wings missing the trees by feats of avian acrobatics,
the Osprey glides on the wind over the river
balancing first this way, then that,
watching and waiting for an opportunity to
pluck the great fish from a swift current,
keeping it from completing
its cycle of life
and completing its own.Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-26751558626724550332010-10-22T12:23:00.000-07:002011-04-19T13:55:18.214-07:00Laughing Trout HaikuI hear trout laughing
at my humble offering.
Hope springs eternal.Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-18793028245012546552010-07-01T23:47:00.000-07:002010-07-06T21:42:27.241-07:00Reflections“Congratulations, you passed” the examiner said, as he reached out and shook my hand. I didn’t think I performed many of the casting tasks very well. Nevertheless, I was both relieved and excited. I had taken the test once before, and had failed early on in the testing routine.
The examiner completed some paperwork while I pondered what it all meant. I have a mind set that says if I did itKentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-79484743601349077892010-06-22T16:07:00.000-07:002010-07-07T23:42:56.746-07:00The LakeEvening shadows lengthen
bringing quiet to the lake.
The wind sighs one last time
and goes away;
choppy water and white caps
give way to the smooth dark
surface.
Reflections of the new summer
green of trees line the shore
in the mirror of its reflection
leaving a sense of wonder.
What has been here
before?
A Loon screams on the far side,
he dances to impress her.
His love yet Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-74257045677657596492010-04-11T21:03:00.000-07:002010-04-12T08:42:56.965-07:00The River AgainNick and Michael pulled out of L.A. facing a rain storm in Friday afternoon traffic, around six o’clock in the evening. It was an inauspicious beginning to their fishing trip on the Kern River. Nick had wanted to go much earlier in the day, thinking they might get some fishing in on the river before it got dark. Michael’s house was not easy to find, and the traffic near his neighborhood was bad Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-17438765330700725932009-12-31T19:59:00.001-08:002010-04-11T21:09:28.659-07:00The Big Fish, The Little Fish, and the Ones That Got AwayAs 2009 draws to a close, I reflect on my fishing for the year, and think about the trips to come. This is not a task that I feel I need to do. I went fishing, I caught some fish. I didn’t catch nearly as many fish as I would have liked.
In June, I had the opportunity to fish Hot Creek Ranch. A private ranch, it is the kind of place that galls fishermen who think that there should be no Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-82655834403955368322009-12-02T17:05:00.000-08:002010-04-11T21:16:21.800-07:00Conversation With The RiverThe river flows constantly
quiet in its movement
never stopping never ceasing,
soft autumn sunlight bouncing
off its surface.
She sits by the bank,
says there’s a mouse
but really it’s a gopher.
We talk about nothing much
watch the river move
wondering if the salmon really come
to this place so far from the ocean.
© James Webb, 2009Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-1816346235658010442009-11-09T22:26:00.000-08:002010-04-11T21:19:30.509-07:00Oncorhynchus mykiss gilbertiKern River Rainbow
Sides shine in golden sunlight
Fish in the river
© James Webb, 2009Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-20680535914210639382009-10-13T21:36:00.001-07:002010-04-26T10:49:56.153-07:00Rain in L.A.Rain comes to L.A. this year in the early fall;
Indian summer with cool nights and a warm day
punctuated with the sound of rain drops falling
from the eaves of the roof, softly at first,
then louder, then softly again.
My daughter, in the middle of her first college mid-terms,
says it’s pouring where she is, a four hour drive north.
The stress has made her cranky. She doesn't like it,Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-63382302659109137392009-08-28T23:43:00.000-07:002010-04-26T10:50:55.113-07:00She Caught Her First FishImage via WikipediaMy daughter is nothing, if not headstrong. I think it comes from her mother. I don't think I'm headstrong or stubborn. People who don't know me don't agree with that, but it's true. It's just that I don't change my mind very easily. I think my ideas are worth something.
Her name is Julie, or Julia when she is really pissed. Did I mention that she is a teenager? Some friends Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-57206541929289308362009-07-18T14:49:00.000-07:002010-04-26T10:51:58.324-07:00The Surf SnobI'm a snob. I mean, I act like a snob, especially when it comes to certain things, like fishing. I'm exclusively a fly fisherman, even though a spinning rod would come in handy from time to time when chasing down fish. The curious thing though, is that I don't have the kind of bank account I would expect a snob to have. Most of the people I know have more stuff than I do, and stuff is how youKentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-45293405863432880552009-06-28T23:44:00.000-07:002009-06-28T23:50:21.287-07:00What's Wrong With Today?I spend my life worrying about what is going to happen soon, tomorrow, next week, next month, next year; or fretting about what happened yesterday, last month, last year, even years and years ago. Today, though, I'm just fine, and my day went just as it was supposed to go.Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-56912734010466862162009-06-16T14:30:00.000-07:002010-04-26T10:53:48.585-07:00On Fishing Hot Creek Ranch, Wherein the Author Learns the Meaning of " a Technical Fishery"; a Cure for Stinging Nettles; and Other Important StuffThis past weekend I fished Hot Creek Ranch just outside of Mammoth, California for my third time. "The Ranch" as it is called, has been referred to as a "technical fishery". I've never really understood what that means. Oh, I've heard definitions of that term; everyone you speak with seems to have a different one. This past weekend, I developed my own. Now I know what fly fishers mean when they Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-76649904032553567512009-06-11T11:40:00.000-07:002010-04-26T10:54:43.329-07:00Face ThisA friend invited me to join Facebook several months ago. Now I have more friends than he does. One day twelve friends, the next day thirty! Geeez... Problem is, I don't know what to do with all those friends. Now, it's not like I'm the most likeable guy around. Hardly. I have a way of charming people so that they walk away shaking their heads.
But I do have friends; I do. I like 'em, and they Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-83734433074323240492009-06-07T22:31:00.000-07:002009-06-30T22:37:14.599-07:00CrazinessJesus! This is making me crazy. Now I've gotta write stuff, and edit stuff, and revise the stories. As if that were not enough, I've just discovered that there is another blogger out there with the name "Kentucky Jim". Evidently, he's in a band, plays music and all that. He hasn't posted in a long time, though, so maybe this will work out ok.I just yelled at my ex over the phone. I hate when thatKentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090534614006847922.post-11941986172300438412009-06-06T17:30:00.000-07:002009-06-06T22:08:33.106-07:00Rain DropsIt rained in L.A. yesterday. I wish it would today.Kentucky Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01960146680001451474noreply@blogger.com0