Late in June, many years ago, I fished those waters with a 7.5 foot fly rod and a gang leader of four dry flies. Each gentle drop of the flies near a lily pad in one or two foot of water would bring a swirl and a fighting sunfish, bigger than your hand. One fish held my attention before releasing him. He was an old male with a humped back, faded yellow belly and terrible teeth scars on the belly and gill plates. A Musky or Northern Pike had tried to eat him, but he had escaped, somehow! Now a new spawning season had arrived and he had returned to his birth place. Here thousands of his brothers and sisters had been born at the same time. This was his home. I released him gently, with a little wonder. There was something wonderful here but, what?       

Two weeks later I was angling the channel off Fishers Landing. The depth was 20 feet with a hard sand bottom and a big eddy. My rig was a bell sinker, 30 inch leader, size zero spinner and a #8 hook with night crawler. I had caught several perch and a walleye for dinner, when I got a hard strike. I hooked the fish and found a determined, stubborn fighter on. When the fish began to tire, I expected to see a big small-mouth black bass. Surprise! It was the ole veteran sunfish I had released at the isles. Again, I released him.       

A couple of years ago, at work, my friend Lemon called to me. He said "Hey, Home boy, I just got back from Carolina." I stopped and he told me about his trip, family and childhood home. When I left him, I knew he had talked about the most important values in life. We all share them but, don't talk enough.       

Suddenly, a memory of the sunfish hit me! I now know what that fish had to teach me.       

Early in life, we learn, play and share with our families, the excitement of a new world. As we get older, we have an urge to go home and renew that magic feeling.That urge is in Caribou, Salmon, whales, eagles and mankind. We all carry that beautiful time and special place in us.