In the early 1990s my parents used to go to
Coyote Lake in their motor home. One summer, I remember, they stayed there for a couple of months with my two oldest sons, Billy and Devon. (I miss them greatly.) I went down and saw them at the lake several times during that summer. I had to work but I got down there when I could. Weekends.
This morning, about 20 years since the last time I at that lake, Anselm and I went fishing down there. It was strange for me. I loved being with Anselm (He caught a bass on a crawdad lure but it was two small to keep). but I was also sad because of my first two sons. We saw three different flocks of turkeys (one was mostly Gould's variety but the others looked like Rio Grand variety. I was surprised to see such sharp distinctions.) a covey of
quail, several
mule deer, and a bobcat. but no coyotes.
Sometimes, it seems like I have had too many lives. Everything and everywhere is full of memories.
Anselm and I are going to make a regular thing out of Thursday mornings, I think. I am able to arrange my work schedule so that I don't have to be anywhere until 2pm on Thursdays, and that is fine for fishing. I am very happy about that.