You Need to Hear This

Climbing out of my old F250 with little to no air conditioning, the thick humid July air hits my face. No breeze and swarms of deer flies attack with military precision. I pull my waders, rod, and sling pack out of the truck and rest it on the tailgate. Already droplets of sweat are dripping off my nose and my t-shirt is sticking to my skin like dog hair to black pants. Not exactly the most comfortable conditions for an evening on the water, but I will gladly work with it. I slowly assemble my fishing gear and peruse my fly selection. My mind begins to wander off away from the adventure ahead. Did I lock up the office before I left? I could check the security system. Did my boss receive that email I sent? Should we make that purchase or find another vendor? I could google that real quick. Did my phone just vibrate? The slamming of a car door snaps me out of my trance. My fishing partner for the evening has arrived and I never even heard him pull into our grassy patch of earth used for public fishing access. We share our usual pre-fishing pleasantries and we go back to gearing up. We work our way upstream trying not to trip on the slippery hidden river stones. Every cautious step I take my waders cling to my legs and the sweat stain on my sun faded hat builds. My mind begins to drift away to a land I’m currently not standing in. Did I remember to ask my wife to drop off that boy scout payment? I could check his account real quick. Did I remind my son to take the dogs out? I could send him a text to remind him, I never heard back from one of my coworkers, I could check my email one more time. Before I know it I’m standing at my rock. Yes it’s just a rock, smoothed over time by the ever changing weather patterns of the north. This rock is my starting point. With my back to the lush green forest, in spectacular bloom, fully awake after a long winter's lull. I begin my roll casts. One after another like a metronome in perfect cadence. My mind begins to wander yet again, darn it, I forgot to take the trash out, I can message my wife to remind her. I need to remember to send those reports out, I could set a reminder. I really need to look into buying new tires for the truck. My phone can tell me which ones are best. Fifteen minutes have passed and a faint tug on my leader shakes me from my endless brain banter. My rod bends and adrenaline runs through my veins. Not much of a fight or a trophy to brag about but the 12” shiner awakens me. It awakens me to my surroundings. I hear the endless roar of the river, water crashing over rocks, I hear a red squirrel chattering away on a tree limb behind me. I hear two blue jays jeer back and forth. I begin to hear my fly line swinging back and forth next to my face. I am finally hearing the natural world around me. Not the endless chatter of nonsense in my head but the beautiful soul speaking rhythms of nature. This moment. This is the reason why I come here every week. Not to catch fish but to clear my head of the seemingly endless noise that surrounds day to day life. For two hours a week just listen to the breeze flow through the trees, hear the bugs swarm around my head, and hear nothing but the pure world around me.

In today's world of endless communication and the expectation of instant responses we humans have gone tone deaf to the sounds of mother nature. Our minds endlessly crave instant information and instant communication to the point we don’t stop thinking about what's next. Unfortunately there is no off switch to our brains. We are more in-tune with the never ending beeps, buzzes, and ringing in our pockets and on our wrists. Nowadays we hear a phone vibrating in another room before we hear a robin singing outside our window. It’s more important to hear social media notifications than coyotes howling in the distance. Even the most hardcore outdoors-men can get caught up in the never ending noises of daily life. Yes it is important to make sure that emails have been sent, reports have been filed, and the boy scout payment has been made but we must find a way to shut all that noise off. It can wait. Communicating with the boss can be done tomorrow. We need to get outdoors. Even if it’s just for two hours a week. An outdoors-man's brain craves the sounds of the natural world. They need to hear their breath on a cold fall morning while waiting for the ducks to fly at first daylight. They need to hear the rolling waves of the ocean crash against the boat as they set up their offshore rigs. They need to hear a deer's hooves on the freshly frosted leaves. The sound of a long beard on an early spring morning, the hoot of an owl at sunset. The rain falling on the trees, the snow falling on an open meadow. Step away from the insanity of today's modern world. Step away from the never ending communications. Step away from the emails, text messages, and instant updates. Because you need to hear this.

Aaron Hardy

Northern NY Adventures