Cornelius the Fisherman
I met Cornelius this evening at our local Surprise Park. He was fishing in the town lake which is kept, much to my surprise, well stocked by our small, neighborly city. I had emerged long enough for my "poor me" mode to be in the moment, to be present, to remember to get out of myself and enjoy the park, the cooler night air, the company of Sunshine and the other 100 plus visitors. I paused on my counter clockwise circumnavigation of the park to observe the fisherman's very contented stance. "How's the fishing?" was greeted by a warm, welcoming smile, white teeth shining against his dark face. The sun had already set, the park lanterns provided enough light for not being afraid of the dark, but not so much it forced you from your reverie. Cornelius is called The Fisherman, everyone knows him he assured me. What's the secret of his fishing success? A 99cent package of chicken franks from the Dollar Store, a heavy weight, no floatatio...