Coming Home

Coming Home
© Karen F. Rose
oil on canvas
available

My father was a fisherman on the small lakes in Michigan where I grew up and then again in Florida when he retired. I often think of him out on the lake, well into the twilight hours as he would try to catch just one more. The lights from the cottages across the lake would barely be visible and we would hear that sound of an outboard motor as he would head back to shore and we knew he was coming home. 

My mom who is 94 and I reminisced the other day, about the time he went out into the Gulf of Mexico with an elderly gentleman. The motor in the neighbor's little boat failed on them halfway into their fishing adventure. 

Late at night the coast guard helicopter saw them floating at sea...the two old men and the sea.

Thankfully they were rescued, but my father did not venture out into the Gulf in a boat without two motors ever again.

Come in to the gallery and tell us your fishing story....everyone has one.