Tuesday night fishing and strange sightings in the sky

It was after 8 when I got to Long Lake and unloaded the canoe from the truck. The sun was dropping in the western sky and a steady breeze was blowing of the southwest. The rains that morning had cooled the air and the temperature was in the mid-70s. I took a fly rod, in the hopes that after sunset the winds would die down. I also took a lightweight spinning rod to use until such time and stowed everything in the boat, including the dog. Trisket settled in the bottom, under the thwarts as I paddled away from the boat launch area. When I got to where the bottom dropped off deep, I lowered my anchor. I use the head from an old 8 pound splitting maul. I broke the handle a couple years ago and wasn’t able to find a new handle that fit, so I had to buy a new splitting maul and decided that the 8 pounds of steel makes a good anchor. Other fishermen have asked if I’m trying to guillotine the fish when I drop anchor, but that’s okay, it didn’t cost me anything. I caught a few fish on a small Panther Martin spinner—a couple of small bass and a few pumpkin seeds (a highbred blue gill). The sun disappeared and, as expected, the wind died. I changed to the fly rod and began casting out a little spider to the edge of the lily pads. I quickly picked up a half dozen bluegills. Once darkness descended, I put away the rods and paddled on the glassy lake. The fading light was enchanting. Everyone else had gone in; there was no longer the drone of motors. It was peacefully until some fool at a cottage on the other side of the lake shot off firecrackers. Trisket, who is deathly afraid of thunder, jumped. With visions of swimming in the middle of the lake at night, I dropped to my knees and grabbed his collar and calmed him down. Luckily, the fool soon ran out of firecrackers and we were again able to enjoy the serenity of the evening. A few stars popped out. A slither of the moon, just a day or so after its renewal, hung low in the western sky. It was time to head in.

I pulled into the driveway at 10:30. As I was taking the canoe off the truck, I caught a glimpse of two lights in the sky overhead. They were brighter than a satellite, even brighter than Jupiter, and one light seemed to follow the other. I watched them until they disappeared behind the trees to the southeast and later learned that they were the International Space Station and the Space Shuttle Atlantis. I wish I had had my binoculars at hand.