Nothing like fly-fishing in your Sunday best, right before your outdoor river-side church service with a promise of custard ice-cream to follow.
Written October 17th, 2022
Within the past whirlwind of the last three weeks, I've not spent one weekend in Austin. I traveled to my hometown, I met up with my family (outside Austin) to celebrate my sister's birthday and then my cousin's, got tickets for a country concert with my roommates and went over the weekend, visited my grandparents, and lastly--but my favorite--I attended my local church's annual Camp service. This takes place at a local children's summer camp, which is famous for its gorgeous river forks and swimming holes and greenery. It's about a 20 minute drive outside our small town, but the owners (long-time church members and friends of everyone) invite the congregation for a beautiful outdoor worship service every year, right on the river. Originally, I wasn't sure if I was going to have time to go to this service, because I needed to get back to Austin to unpack, do homework, etc. But I realized that this only happens once a year, and I shouldn't waste the opportunity. After all, this camp is one of my favorite places in the hill country. It's actually where I took my senior pictures!
The funny thing about my family is that Sundays are usually not considered our Sabbath day. For us, it's technically a work day. My mom is one of the pastors at our church, serving as a deacon to advocate for minority groups and the general marginalized community. She wakes up at 5:00am, every Sunday, to get to church and begin preparation for services. My father, on the other hand, volunteers to run the pro-presenter slides in the visuals booth. My sister and I help out with the audio and mic board in the sound booth.
But this Sunday was different. A later service meant we could sleep in longer. Being outside meant we didn't have to worry about mics or slides. My mom wasn't even doing the sermon this time around. So, what do you think my father's natural reaction to our advantageous and rare new day of Sabbath?
This man brought his fishing pole to church. His fly rod, his flies, his lures. He was upset that he forgot his waders but I was quick to remind him that although there was a river, we aren't going to fish. We're going for church! My dad reluctantly conceded, and I thought "well, that's that."
What I didn't realize, however, is that he made us leave the house an hour and a half early so he could have some time to fish before the service. So country, I know. (Disclaimer: only catch and release, don't worry.) Miraculously, once settled on the neatly-manicured greenery of the property lawns, my sister and I found ourselves surprised at how much we enjoyed watching him fish. It was so peaceful, the weather was chilly and crisp, the wind was strong and turned our noses pink, the sky was a beautiful overcast shade of "two-pale-girls'-dream." I took out my phone and snagged a few pictures of my dad in action. Despite being so simplistically silly or inconsequential, I had a great day. I was so glad to have witnessed my dad's fishing schemes, sitting with my sister beneath a large elm, listening to a violin and guitar, playing with the children of the church.
The pictures don't nearly do it justice, but I hope they can bring even just an ounce of illustration to my wholesome day.
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