And at night… ah, that’s the time, isn’t it? Outside it’s dark,
December dark, and we’re inside and warm and cocooned up. The cold
makes our world shrink, especially at night.
But we have our dreams.
For Janice Thomas, our art teacher at the high school, it’s that
painting she’s planning. She makes starts at it, from time to time,
but she’s wise enough to know she isn’t good enough to paint it yet.
She paints other things well, but that one … it has to be perfect.
It will be the painting of a lifetime, she knows.
Doc will drift off to sleep tonight thinking about that new fly rod.
He has half a dozen, of course, that will take about any weight
line, and let him catch anything from mouse to moose. But even the
most expensive rod isn’t what he dreams of. This year, for
Christmas, he’s giving himself a rod-builder’s jig, and he will make
his own rod from a Sage blank. That will be the one. It will have
his own wrappings and he’ll put the ferrules on it himself. He’ll be
able to feel the fish breathe with this one. It will be true and
wonderful and last forever.
[to top of second
For cowboy Steve, the December dream is always
the same: building a little corral up at the cabin for Snort. Maybe
putting knotty pine walls in the turret. And perhaps figuring a way
to get that coffee pot from the stove, up the ladder to the loft
without Steve having to go fetch it for refills. He’ll have to work
on that a bit. But that’s part of the December fun as well.
There is a nighttime sweetness and hope that hovers over us this
time of year. Here’s to dreams.
[Text from file received from
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