In my wildest dreams

It had been a long time since I’d had one of those dreams.

They were a fairly common occurrence when I was younger and went without for more than a couple of days, but I’m much older now and, really, it had only been a little over a week.

Maybe it was because I was away from home and it’s springtime, that magical season when I’m always thinking about it, fantasizing.

Whatever the reason, now I was dreaming about it. And not about the last time, either. Not that that hadn’t been good, but it was different, brief, a little cool yet. Something was stirring inside me, brought on perhaps, by the warm Georgia weather.

And desire.

My dream was of bass. Huge bass. Swimming at my feet. Obviously waiting for me to catch them.

I’d dreamt of fish before, usually generic trout for some reason, but this vision was species specific: largemouth bass.

A few days prior to leaving for Atlanta a friend and I had fished a pond near town and caught our fill of northern pike – strong, healthy fish that fought well and tasted good, too. The cold, windy weather hadn’t mattered. The fish were hungry and we were snug and warm, bundled in our winter gear.

A month earlier another friend and I had some luck fishing the Bighorn River for brown and rainbow trout.

But although my phone is full of pictures of those fish, my dream wasn’t. Nary a trout nor pike entered into that fantasy. This was pure, unadulterated redneck desire, and not out of character. I did, after all, used to live in Kentucky.

Bass turn my crank.

I seldom remember the content of my dreams, only recalling that I had one, but this was vivid. The fish were green with enormous mouths, I could even hear their splashing.

Like most dreams, however, this one never reached a satisfactory conclusion. I got too excited, I guess, and simply woke up, disappointed to find myself in a hotel in downtown Atlanta instead of on the water somewhere.

Closing my eyes, I tried to return to the honey hole of my dreams, but of course couldn’t, the hubbub of the city making any further slumber impossible.

I sat up in the bed in the dark waiting for my wife to awaken so we could pack our bags and head home, all the while thinking of bass, big bass.

It had been years since I’d had that dream and I wanted to savor it.

Parker Heinlein is [email protected]