Trying To Say Some Thing About The Depths of Fly Fishing in Deep Silent Pools.

What do you do if you strongly feel you have something to say but you can’t say it? I wonder what the prophets of old felt when they tried to say what they had to say?  I wonder if they even knew what they were saying.

I have a sense that I am trying to say something. But I can’t say it. I’m not even sure what it is.   It’s just something I sense. Perhaps kind of similar to how a fly fisher senses that there is a big fish in the run they are fishing and the fish is going to take the fly. “I don’t know how I knew. I just had a feeling that fish was there and had taken the fly”.

What have I been trying to say over all these years most often has something to do with fly fishing in the early morning or skiing in the woods in the late afternoon during a snow storm or running down mountain trails through the clouds?  With fly fishing the something I sense is far more than the feeling that there is a big fish some where under the currents I fish. It is something more. Something “under the rocks”,  perhaps under everything.

And that is my problem. What is this something more?  How do I say it?

What is this something more that I sometimes feel in these moments ?  What am I trying to say about these moments that it seems I can never find the words. It seems the more words I use the less I say about what I am trying to say. .  

Is it something largely unsayable?  Something I do not know. Or, at the very least,  I do not know very well.

I know it , some what, only when I experience it and then it passes into the unsayable past of memory where words cannot enter.  

I wonder if you were there with me would you feel it or would it be gone?  Or, if you did  feel it, would you be at the same loss of words?   

Whatever it is it seems to be of depth and mystery.

Nothing of cliché’s.

Some thing beyond names. 

Some thing of life.

Some thing more than the fish caught or the ski turns made.

Some thing worthy of my praise.

Some thing of God.

Some thing I cannot say.

Maybe this is it? What I have to say. That I can’t say it;

and this not being able to say it,  is something. 

And for now it is enough.