The Greenway Art Festival was a big time, as expected, and I had the great fortune of seeing some old friends and meeting some new ones through the course of an absolutely beautiful day in middle Tennessee. Despite some initial challenges with booth location, I landed in a nice spot on the leading edge of the sea of craft tents, and made the most of my opportunity. I certainly thank all of those who stopped by and expressed such wonderful interest in my artwork.
In a way, this one-day show was a warm-up for a much bigger festival later in the fall. On Nov. 2-4, I’ll be one of 200 artists showcasing their creations at the Great Gulf Coast Arts Festival in Pensacola, Fla. This will be my first time to participate this prestigious event, and needless to say, I’m really excited about it. My list of things-to-do before the festival is immense, and all the while, I’m praying for good weather while we’re there. Regardless, it will be great experience, and I’m looking forward to introducing my work to a new audience.
The festival will be held at Seville Square in downtown Pensacola. For more information about the Great Gulf Coast Art Festival, please visit their website.
On a completely different note … after a summer of typical tumult, my beloved Nashville Predators are not skating anytime soon. Another big labor dispute has the owners and players at odds, leaving me and the rest of the NHL’s fans searching for supplemental sports entertainment.
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The KHL's best goalie |
Thankfully though, as football dominates the weekends and baseball takes its final swing at its interminably-long season, the weather begins to cool, the leaves turn, and most importantly, the fishing picks up. Most fish species typically use this season to feed, making for some special days on the water. Bass stock up on protein for the coming winter, redfish swarm the beaches, stripers move into shallow waters to follow bait migrations, and brown trout devour everything in sight in order to fuel up for their annual spawn.
However … fall smacked the crap out of Anthony and me yesterday, as we attempted to fish the Caney Fork River amidst the rapidly changing conditions of a strong cold front which lumbered through middle Tennessee. Promised cloudy conditions with steady light rain, instead we “enjoyed” blue-bird skies, brisk north winds and rising barometric pressure. Fishing death.
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Early Fall on the Caney Fork |
Early in the trip, before conditions deteriorated into an undesirable-yet-beautiful transitional day, Anthony fooled a few, including an expertly-orchestrated dry-fly offering to a rainbow trout which thought the white Adams floating by was one of the many pale mayfly sailboats that were gently making their way downstream. That prompted an awkward, mid-boat high-five and some general giddiness, before we reclaimed our maturity and resumed our float. Eventually, the dry-fly bite faded, and we resorted to drifting nymphs and tossing streamers into the milky-tinted green water. As the clouds parted and the sun drenched Anthony’s Gheenoe, our spirits darkened as the fishing action took a decided nosedive. While my angling partner proved his fishing mastery by fooling a few more decent rainbows on a nymph dropper, I was thoroughly beaten by my favorite section of the river. Basically, I just got a few hours of casting practice.
It happens.
But, it won’t deter me from future opportunities. While many sportsmen and sportswomen will soon take to duck blinds and tree stands, I’ll be paddling around in my kayak, wading hip-deep in clear streams and scouting structure on nearby lakes.
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Snow bird. |