A kettle bubbles above a blue flame on the stove and the salt I add roils the water’s surface, reminding me of the lake. I turn to look out the window at an ever-changing canvas of surf and sky. Today it is alive with gulls and cormorants, kingfishers and mergansers. Salt and pepper birds.
Reducing the heat, I toss in quartered onions, chopped parsley, freshly squeezed lemon juice, peppercorns, and a bay leaf, marveling at how this curious brew can render bass into something better. Slipping the fillets into the broth, I walk to the window to wait while they poach. The aroma follows me into the living room, mingling with the lingering scent of lemon on my hands.
Cormorants numbering in the hundreds have begun their day-long shuffle, attempting awkward landings and vying for pecking order on the silver-gray branches of a driftwood tree farther out in the lake, dotting it like autumn leaves too stubborn to fall in season. Leaning into the wind, they wait, too. Fishing requires patience and they’re in no hurry with the prospect of a buffet below.
Overhead, seagulls and kingfishers flutter in a stiff southwest breeze, eyeing the swells for the silver flash of a shad. One by one they drop with a frothy splash that rivals the white caps, returning to flight with a swoop and a gulp.
Closer to shore, a flock of mergansers bobs in unison as the wind and waves buffet them — a battleship of birds. One dives, then the next, and the next, like torpedoes firing in sequence. Mission accomplished, they break the surface again, resuming formation with beaks and bellies full.
Surprise! A bald eagle zips by, chased by his shadow on the matted grass. He hovers near the bluff and his shadow hesitates, then darts to race over the water in an ongoing game of tag. A long, descending arc brings them to the water’s edge where the eagle promptly meets a carp, as though they’d made an appointment to discuss business over lunch. Seconds later, he ascends with the carp secured in a talon-ed handshake — a binding contract. Protesting his powerful presence, the cormorants squawk and scatter. Once again the sky is filled with salt and pepper birds.
When the timer on the kitchen counter concludes its countdown, I follow the intensified aroma back to the stove. Within minutes, I’ve witnessed the cycle of life and how fleeting moments truly are. I intend to savor this one. Scooping the fillets from the steaming stock, I smile.
Fish.
Lunchtime at the lake.
Enjoying sharing what I “see” with you,
~ Kim
I’m seriously going to spend a week at your house. You cook, I’ll clean up.
How beautiful. Really enjoyed reading this and can imagine how tasty the fish was.
Kimmmeeee…I can see, feel and smell every aspect of these moments in your warm toasty and loving home…an escape into the world of life on the water where its ever-changing world of life makes you smile and realize that it doesn’t take that much to make us happy…good food, a warm home, and God’s beautiful blessings…I felt like I was there xoxox
Awww, this was so cool. As I read this a cormorant landed on our pontoon and is sitting there, wings spread trying to dry off.
You certainly put me in the picture.
The title is enough to make me envy! Reading this post is like reading a famous novel, my dear. You certainly have the talent to write…….
This post is beautiful. Kim. I felt I was right there with you and I could smell that fish poaching in the aromatic water. The cycle of life is both beautiful and tragic, sometimes both at the same time. You have a warm and vivid writing style and I am so happy that you are sharing your thoughts with me. Thank you. Jeanne
Love you….Love your writing. It all makes me happy. Always.