Although I don't hunt or fish anymore, this was great. It captures how bizarrely engaging and gratifying activities like these can be, haha.
> We cruise on, the slough opening into a lake. By now, I’ve got the proper predatory mind-set and am catching nearly every frog I try for. “You’re doing real good, Bill,” Jody tells me. “You’ve got an interesting motion. I sort of smash-grab, you know. I’ll push that frog down another six inches when I grab him, but you sorta pluck him out like an eagle.” It’s shameful how gratified I am at these words of praise. I am a grown, widely traveled man. I have caught a 150-pound tarpon, killed a bull elk with a bow and arrow, and survived an audit by the IRS. But at this particular moment, I would rather be counted a good frog grabber than anything I can think of.
When you're into it, you're into it. As a kid I could hunt frogs for hours and hours. You get wired right into it. People will look at you like you're crazy, and maybe you are, but it becomes the singular thing that matters. Anyone who loves fishing will say the same.
These days I've replaced the hunting and fishing with shooting on cameras. It's fun in the water because a lot of fish are pretty clever, and they seem to pick up on when they're being hunted. When you just have a camera and you hang around a while, they warm up a bit and present a bit more. When you're blasting spears around and diving they tend to stay pretty cool and stay out of view extremely effectively. Pros and cons. I don't have crispy ling cod dinners on the beach anymore, but I get to dial into the state of the water, the animals, and the moment a little more too. It's all good.