Oh boy. If you’re new to me then you’re in for a treat because the fish are running in my part of the world and I’m about to wax evangelically about all things migrating fish!

Watching the fish make their way up stream each Spring and Fall is a decades-long obsession. I wait for the first sign of movement and, once they’re moving, I sit and I watch and I think.

I think about these fish. How hard they work to move upstream. How dedicated they are to the next generation. How hard they work to provide a nesting place for their offspring. I think about the fact that these are female fish and I identify with them.

I watch how they rest when necessary. How they forge ahead and get pushed back. How they accept backsliding without judgement (I may be imagining this part, I don't know what goes on in a fish’s brain). How they accept their fate, accept lost ground, but don’t fester over it. Instead they rest, renew their strength, and forge ahead when they’re ready. One foot (fin?) after another.

I imagine they don’t engage in negative self-talk about their progress or how their friend made it further or how frustrated they are with this whole experience. I imagine they just do. And I take so much inspiration from them.

If you live near the Bronte Creek, they’re currently at Bronte Park, probably making their way to Lowville Park. If you’re able, sit and watch and be inspired.