Winter's End

These are days of malaise and ennui.  Pronounce the word “malaise” slowly, with the proper French accent, and you might almost guess its meaning; a vague feeling of uneasiness or discomfort.  “Ennui,” another French word, conveys a similarly dysphoric state of mind; weariness and dissatisfaction resulting from inactivity.  French has given to English these lyrical synonyms for discontent and tedium.

It has been a long, cold and wet winter.  I feel the malaise and ennui.  I’m ready for spring.  The winter weather has been unsettling. It seems that almost every day there has been a news story about the weather, weather anomalies and catastrophes that seem to confirm global climate change.  As I write this blog, the eastern half of Nebraska is under water.  There is no longer a direct route open from Kansas City to Omaha.  I will need to detour through Des Moines in order to get to my family.

The political climate this winter has been unsettling and stormy, often hitting all-time lows. There have been indictments and guilty verdicts of high-profile ex-confidants to the president, the expectation being of more to come.  There have been no calming and reassuring fireside chats from our leader.  Instead, we’ve gotten a barrage of self-serving, insulting and factually inaccurate tweets.

There has been increasing political polarization in our country, with the fringes getting louder and grabbing more attention.  From the extreme far right there are increasing threats and acts of violence directed towards minorities, this being written three days after the massacre of Muslims in New Zealand. It seems the white nationalist vision for a great America is to Make America Nazi Germany Again.  And from those on the far left, some of whom are now seated members of Congress, we hear the socialist class-based rantings for revolution, which calls to mind two more French words:  Robespierre and guillotine.

Today, the last day of winter, it was warm and sunny, sweater weather, a day to be outdoors.  I went to the lake to find peace, to find solitude and to fish.  When I first arrived, the water’s polished surface was unbroken.  There were no concentric circles indicative of fish feeding.  There were no telltale ripples, wakes created by the dorsal fins of fish in motion.  I half-heartedly cast my line into the water, with little expectation.  But after 30-minutes or so, I had a bite and a reasonable size bass on the end of my line.  The fish’s fight was lethargic, as-if not yet fully awake from winter’s dormancy.  But it was one fish more than I expected to catch, and one more than was needed to make for a good day of fishing.

Later that afternoon, the water's glassy surface was broken by a splash, then another and another.  Soon, there were hundreds of little splashes, as-if the water was beginning to boil.  This was a school of shad, being hunted and eaten by hungry bass, the bass fattening up in preparation for their spring spawn.  By the afternoon’s end, I wound up catching a dozen fish, mostly small, all of them somewhat lethargic, still warming up, awakening from their sleep.

A school of shad, bass preparing to spawn, fish on my line; these were all welcomed and tangible reminders that this most difficult winter is almost over.  I expect the malaise and ennui to pass with the promise of good fishing ahead. Today is the end of winter. Tomorrow is the beginning of a new spring season, the season for re-creation, for joie de vivre.