I don’t fish but I enjoy watching others fish. I think it’s because the act of fishing seems so still and quiet to me, even when fishermen are bobbing in boats in the Columbia River.
Here are some fishing scenes I’ve observed that have stuck in my mind like oil paintings:
A man fishes for salmon from a bank of the Willamette River. He catches one, but struggles to reel it in. He takes out his phone to take a photograph of the fish and then the fish escapes the hook.
A young Latino family fishes for surf perch on Nesika Beach.
A hornless man fishes for salmon from he bank of the Willamette River.
A young man fishes in the morning before work for salmon from a bank of the Clackamas River.
A disabled man fishes for trout in a pond near the Rogue River.
Rose smoking a cigarette and fishing for salmon from the rocks of Netarts Bay. It was the first and only time I went on a fishing date.
Drunk men in boats fishing for boats in Nehalem Bay.
Homeless men in Seaside fishing for crab off a bridge over the Neacanicum River.
Drunk Russians fishing for perch off the South Jetty of the Columbia River.
A man fishes for steelhead in Fish Creek in a watershed ravaged by wildfire.
I wish I had taken up surf perch fishing when I lived near the ocean. I was almost ready to a year or so ago, and then moved away from the ocean. It is unknown when I will return.