Not too many seasons ago I began the practice of keeping a journal of outings and fishing expeditions that I happened to venture upon over the course of the year. It began with just steelhead and quickly came to include any and all species that I came across. In the early days I used a simple, small, spiral notebook where I jotted down the particulars of the day including, of course, number of fish caught, date, time of day, fly or lure that seemed to be working that day, random notes about the weather and water conditions and often some reflective thoughts regarding the sights and sounds of nature encountered during the excursion. Occasionally I would even include brief impressions and commentary of my compatriots found streamside. While these were mostly appreciative, there were some notations about the less desirable folks we might encounter in our adventures around the streams and rivers of Northeast Ohio…you’ve met ‘em. All in all, the journal was a pretty useful means of keeping track of my outdoor activities. It wasn’t long, however, before I became aware that this form of documentation, while thorough in the details, became cumbersome when I attempted to review these entries for some theme about what might be going on during upcoming outings. As fate would have it, I soon came across an offer on line for an electronic version of what I had been keeping longhand. Downloaded and learned, this became a more effective and permanent record of piscatorial events. Time passed and soon I noticed that I had quite a list of events collected which spanned a number of years. Hard to believe that time had passed at all. In my memory it seemed that I had just begun this activity; but then that is how memory seems to work. It has the uncanny ability to bend time and space creating the surreal sense that nothing and everything has happened all at once. Dreamlike in this sense, I was dumbfounded when I discovered that I had been tracking life by fishing outings for about 5 years. Maybe that is why fishermen remain young at heart, never losing the thrill of the next fish on the line, as if it were our first.

In a recent review of entries made, I found myself reflectively carried back in time to those moments recorded in the log and found that I was able to transport myself back through time and season to the day of record. Suddenly I was right back there with freezing feet and wet hands, battling wind and rain, ever in the pursuit of these impressive trout. It was at these times that I discovered that, while a journal keeps pace with the activities, it also serendipitously provides an altogether better means of tracking my personal travels through time. While the traditional approaches such as birthdays, anniversaries and the holidays do this quite effectively, the journal seems to be better equipped to help me not just mark “time passed”, but “time spent”. This organic method of capturing the subtle, yet significant high points of a life rounds out the flat sides of a year’s activity and aids in one’s reflection about what was truly significant. I am often reminded of other events, activities, conversations and encounters that may have also transpired around the same time. The journal has a knack for capturing the spikes on the graph that is my life, highlighting those moments of significance which become my life’s memory mileposts and they are what I recall, as I look over my shoulder at the growing number of years spent on the planet. While we surely, fondly recall the time spent with family and friends at annual events, I believe the stories told in our hearts and minds as we reflect on the notes of a journal serve us in ways that are so much more personal and whole, and in ways that reflect the non-linear flow of life as we might experience it. Indeed, the actual details and learning about the habits of fish in certain conditions and at certain times of day and year pales as they brush against the rich, thick palette of colors brought vividly back to memory as I think about and re-catch that fish all over again.