Thoughts for the Weekend & this Week’s Links

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Pretending to be a Monk.

There’s something about fishing.

In the early morning, heading toward the rising sun, the sea is calm. There’s no wind. A shingle beach is hard to walk on. But waves on stones sound better.

The tide is out, and I pick out pockets of flat sand to make the walk easier. The fishermen are set up on the shingle bank beyond the tide line. Their lines crossing my path. I duck each time. No real need, it’s just instinctive, I think.

Sometimes they nod. Usually not.

In all the years I’ve been walking and running this route I’ve never seen them catch a thing. Not even a tug on the line and jump to feet moment. They seem to take up strategic solitary positions. Some have a little tent, all have a box and most have two rods balanced on a stick stand thing.

What’s it all about? Are they really waiting for a fish?

No buildings here. Nothing to look at and analyse. My brain’s background function is a sort of neurological disease. Roof shapes, width of street to building height, clay tiles, slates, porch, window proportions. A constant pattern scanner that’s codifying everything, even when I’m not looking.

It’s tiring.

If I got myself a rod and a box, and maybe a little chair. I wonder if I could join the men on the shingle bank. Just sit there. Monk-like.

No actual fishing, not even casting a line. Too much to think about. Just sitting. Rod on stick stand thing.

What other activity can you look like you’re doing without actually doing it? I could hire a tennis court and stand at the baseline, gently rocking my racquet, pretending to wait for a serve. Quite nice. Bit odd.

Strange etiquette about where you can sit, I suppose. Too far back and you’d give the game away. Like standing on the baseline with no opponent.

I’m just going to have to give it a go. See what happens. Make the box cool. Put a few beers in it, take a hat.

Sometimes it’s windy.

All the best