Cooling off, One Way or Another

Otha Barham

June 26, 2009 12:20 am

— Alright, I can't help it. In this heat, my thoughts turn to cool mountain streams in the Rockies where Douglas fir trees shade the stream banks and the trout water is so cold that a hand thrust into it hurts. I know, I can stream fish here in the Southeast and have a good chance at nighttime catfish following a hundred degree daytime sun.
Or I am likely to find bluegills taking popping bugs under the shade of willows, especially on days of a full moon. Or if I can locate bass in a deep, cool hole there will likely be a bunch of them there waiting for my offerings.
But it’s hot folks. And I find myself wishing I were someplace cooler. Just for a little while. Some readers will make the move and spend the days of July or August there, in the revered Rocky Mountains or in the closer Smokies. They will hike into the back country in air so thin and clean that a heady feeling of exhilaration ensues. In the Rockies they will have trouble selecting from hundreds of campsites.

The Place!

Finally, in the West, a spot among the firs will be found on a stretch of stream with just enough ripples to sing soft melodies interspersed with occasional gurgles. The ground will be covered with spongy, green moss, soft as Grandma's old feather bed. The tiny tent will stand taunt and sturdy on a level spot of moss.
Before dark, the fly rods will be rigged with tiny flies and the miniature brook trout will rise to them eagerly. They will flop in the cool grass, showing off their orange and blue and red colors; their spotted flanks gleaming
Our campers will light the lantern and sit closer to the campfire as the darkness and the tall, tightly spaced trees close them off from the rest of mankind. The lantern light will be only a tiny spark in a vast forest measured in dozens of square miles.
After a few stories, someone will lean back against a tree root and look skyward. Their eyes will be drawn by magnetic constellations to the starry, blue-black sky. They will marvel at how many more stars are visible through the sparse atmosphere two miles above the sea. And they will know once again how small they are; how small their problems are

Cooler Yet

Someone will put out the lantern and place a candle to read by on a small stone beside the sleeping bag. Soon they will notice it is much cooler; almost cold. The candle will be blown out. And all will be quiet, and cool. They will be there in these days of summer, squirming down to their ears into thick sleeping bags; soon listening to a pine marten scratching around in the night; anticipating a bubbling coffee pot and bacon and pancakes in the morning.
While we are here enjoying the catfish of our southern nights, campouts close to some shade, bluegills on their beds and big bass in the deep, we retreat into air conditioning at mid-day and do some daydreaming. In our minds we are there with those who are cool and at peace in the mountains.
Some of us will settle our summer vacation plans. This year it will be the mountains! Those who can’t make that trip can daydream until they can. The ones with bold imaginations will spend the hours of their daydreams being very cool.

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