Reading the Water

I pulled up to the end of Beach Lane to have a glance at the Quogue Canal. There was a bridge at this spot that couldn’t stand the forces of the great 1938 hurricane. At the time it was very deep to allow for boat passes; now the depth of this spot well be seen by many fishing lures, and on occasion, fish as well.
As I exited my vehicle, a female golden retriever came over to investigate my presence as I said hello to its owner/friend. “Any luck here today?” I asked. I left my fishing rod in my car and walked over to have a look.
“No luck, as of yet. Actually looking pretty quiet here.” I bent down and gave his golden-colored friend a scratch on the ears and followed with a smile.
“What do you mean when you say that it’s quiet here? Are you talking tides?” I looked at the water line on the bulkhead across the canal just to have an idea of what was going on.
The dog’s owner responded with, “Well the canal usually fishes O.K. regardless of the tides, but there’s no birds working, nor are there any baitfish. It’s not quiet here, it’s dead.” I gazed up at the clouds, smiled at the dog one more time and proceeded to walk to my car. As I shifted my car into the drive position, I poked my head out of the window and yelled to the man and his dog, “good luck!”
Even though “luck” is helpful to have along when fishing, there are also an infinite number of other determining factors that can assist you in locating and catching fish. The surrounding environment that nature provides for us should be used as a building block to learn from. Unfortunately, you cannot go about enrolling into a class entitled “reading the water”, nor is it something that can be explained easily. What the non-fisher may call a “myth”, is a quality similar to the “sixth sense” obtained from experience on and around the waters. Even though I could never call myself a talented enough outdoorsman to explain such a subject, I still feel it my need to point you in the direction of some fish. Or better yet, maybe you’ll learn to point yourself in the direction in which to cast your lines.
If you’re casting your lines in the freshwaters for largemouth bass (Micropterous Salmoides) here are some keys and hints on Americas most popular game fish. Those who know the secret will follow it to their grave that bass are nocturnal, full moon monsters. If you’re hunting monsters under the full moon, your odds of landing a lunker largemouth bass are greater than your chances of catching other ghouls and goblins that may haunt the air. If it’s late at night or even into the morning under the full moon, you may turn a bit crazy yourself, in the solitude of the vastness and quiet. This, however is the essence of learning and picking up on your hidden senses. According to Bauer these night time fishers rely on “feel” more than sight (Bauer 101).
If you remembered to bring along your polarized glasses they may come very useful when peering into the waters under the light of day. When observing the waters of bass land keep in mind to take advantages of shade and structure and also fish depth changes, as well as in and around vegetation (Maas 76).
Over the years, I have also learned to enjoy the company of the birds fluttering nearby and/or circling above. The most common birds to share the local waters with are the Osprey, or otherwise known as the “fish hawk” (Eastman 150). Proving that a waters healthy food source thrives to feed their young, these fishing birds perform impressive dives which often produce larger fish than I may be catching at the time. It is also a great sight to experience, and would be wise to note in the fishing journal “big fish in pond. Was out fished by birds today”.
My favorite and most common other friends of the freshwater are as follows: Belted Kingfisher, Red-Tailed Hawk, Great Blue Heron and the Black Crowned Night Heron. The Belted Kingfisher has also been noted to do “belly flop” dives, a useful method of scurrying some fish out from the Lilly pads and into capturing sight (Boag 84).
It’s always helpful and enjoyable to bring along the binoculars for the fisher birds as well as the birds of beauty. On the local waters you should take a bird identifying book and be prepared to note in your journal the sightings of Fly Catchers and Baltimore Orioles. If you’re cruising down Dune Road also look for Red-Winged Black birds as well as the Egrets, slowly walking the shores, fishing.
There is a great connection between seagulls and the mysterious stares from the eyes of boat captains. Strong and big fish can be found underneath the circling and diving of seagull flocks due to one fact. They are after the same school of bait fish. In the ways of Darwinism the bait fish are on the bottom of the food chain, swimming for their lives through the mayhem of Seagulls, Bluefish and hopefully the Stripped Bass. Locate the birds, and you have found the fish.
Keeping in mind the importance of other determining factors let’s slide our legs into the neoprene of waders, and take a walk to the river. Even though we fish for fun, we know and are aware of the unending doldrums of the bends and pools in the rivers where we cast our lines. People line up, rain or shine, and camp out while they drink and speak Latin of some sort. The Latin in which the fly fishers are known to mumble is not the scientific name of the targeted species of fish, nor is it bird-related.
Scattered throughout America, probably in the places in which you would least expect, are a rare breed of insect geniuses. You’ll have your number of dentists, bus drivers, saxophone players and you’ll have your fly tiers. Now, whether you spend your life trying to tie and replicate the trout’s diet or not, you’re still involved in the fun. You’re a fisherman aren’t you?
You’re a new-wave “entomologist-angler”, and even though you know a thing or two about fish, you’re a genus in insects because the trout eat them. You know what week of what month this and that type of insects will hatch and even the time of day and cloud formation that will make this hatch possible.
You may be into photography as well, and if you are you’ll have an extra powerful zoom lens. You’re a bird and insect lover right? It’s only necessary.
The dentist, and the fly tier are lined up and peering into the river. The bus driver and saxophone player come running alongside the river to meet the pair of fellow anglers. Two of them have waders dripping the river’s water , and one with no fly and a long tapered tippet , or what was left of his leader, flying behind him as he made his way to the fly tier.
After the usual of shaking hands, it was all business: they aren’t there to hang out. “Ephemerella!” said the bus driver. The saxophone player waved the end of his rod at the fly tier and dentist, signifying that he had been “bit off” and said, “Yeah Mayflies. Got him to take an emerger.”
The fly tier slipped his hand into a pocket on his fishing vest and pulled out a light green, floating rectangular shaped book. As he opened his box of flies, the saxophone player, bus driver and the dentist leaned over to have a look as well. Even though the fly tier has some hoppers, stone flies and “carry always” flies, his book was filled with flies of different sizes and stages of the Ephemerella’s life span. The fly tier had the mayfly in nymph form, emerging, and adult form as well. He had perfect imitations in all sizes. Remember he does this for a living right?
He handed a size 18 mayfly emerger to the bus driver and the saxophone player. All that was left was the dentist who was bug-eyed himself and staring, into the book of pretty Mayfly imitations.. The fly tier grabbed a size 20 artificial fly between his pointer and thumb and looked at it really closely. “Here, try a size 20; you’ll do better on a smaller fly anyways”. The dentist looked up with bright eyes and smiled at the proud fly tier. He snatched the pretty and small mayfly-emerger and started tying his new fly to the end of his leader.
They all proceeded in their own direction into the woods to their favorite stretch/pool of the river. The dentist yelled through the woods before getting to far. “Thanks for the emerger, very pretty!” The fly tier, who was just taking his first step into the river, smiled for a minute and thought about his response. He looked up at the pretty sunset and responded to the dentist before he got too far away. “Guess they don’t teach you everything in dental school”. From the opposing direction in the woods and already a distance away, the bus driver and saxophone player were heard chuckling from the fly tier’s response.

the lure of night and moon alike

I had just launched my little blue kayak onto Big Fresh Pond in Noyak in hopes of fishing away the night. It was late, yet still sometime before midnight. I was supposed to meet my two twin friends that I have known since my early skateboard days on the water. If you know a set of skateboarding twins that reside on or close to Big Fresh Pond there’s a big possibility that we know the same people.
The pond that I was fishing is extremely large, and has a small alewife brook in which hundreds of thousands of small silvery fish make their way up into the pond providing a perfect food source for any predatory fish ready and willing to eat. An ideal habitat to grow Largemouth Bass (Micropterous Salmoides) to an extraordinarly large size. Now, let’s not talk numbers in weight here, because then we could be stretching the truth or even telling tall tales. My only source and belief behind this idea was an article on the alewife migration in the Southampton press that spring.
If you consider yourself knowledgeable in the outdoors or even some underwater ecology let me throw out the information that the D.E.C. provides to you in hopes to filter out any confusion, complications, or disbelief. At 64 acres B.F.P. holds the following naturally reproducing species: Largemouth Bass, Chain Pickerel, Bluegill, Pumpkinseed, Brown Bullhead, American eel, Yellow Perch and also White Perch. Early in the season and occurring around the full moon in March it also holds alewife as well.
Anyways, so I started kayaking across the vastness of the pond in the general direction of the spot in which I “felt” they were launching from. On the way , as I was hugging the shores and covering ground (aka speed) an angry, evil bat thought it would be fun harassing me. It proceeded to fly close to my face and than, at the last second dart away. Until I had a clear moment to paddle away from its area’s, I was flailing my fishing rod and yelling! Bad word’s found their way up from my vocal chords. I am usually very agile and well-balanced on the kayak’s until that short moment during our battle. The bat was a strange experience and I cant be positive who got the better of the exchange. All I know is I think the vampire in me showed as well. For an eerie few seconds I had fell a victim to the full moon madness. It happens to the best of us.
After receiving a phone call we communicated by whistles. We docked our boats together through the wind of whistles and under the spell of the full moon as well. They had a big boat of some sort, and had obviously been drinking. It was an interesting sight to watch as they tried rigging up. We talked of tackle and lures. Chilled for a bit. They told me of a fish that they almost caught when they were younger. Those legend fish that are so big that they break your line before even seeing the boat.
Everyone has a big fish encounter at one point or another if you keep at it. Most stories and legends of the ones that get away are never believed. Every now and then someone will catch one of these things , just to prove that it’s no bullshit. I Believe their story.
And so we fished. We hung out, chilled, had some laughs and more importantly fished on. We fished around coves, corners, lily pads docks and other fallen tree structures. At one point I caught a small bass close to shore on a top water, jointed rapala. We all got excited. It was a nice experience as opposed to getting shut out. It wasn’t getting any earlier and I did have to work tomorrow morning. “or is it today” I think to myself as I look at the time on cell phone. I have to work today. I have to work TODAY. As I paddle my kayak on the big pond the song of “I have to work today yay me” finds it’s way into my head. This moon was making me crazy. Time to go.
We decided that it is, indeed, getting late and we should fish our way back. Wait which way is back?
My thoughts were interrupted by a big splash about 20 feet in front of my kayak. Even though my mind was elsewhere before that particular moment , I knew that the location in which the splash had come from was directly where I had just casted my tube bait. I set the hook.! The big splash was apparently a fish of some sort that came up from the depths to have a bite on my white tube bait that I was jigging along on the surface.
Fish on! I yell to the mystery twins. No wait. Big fish on! Excitement ran up my spine as I had to handle the situation properly using logic, reason and just the right amount of tension. I was dealing with a big fish here, there was no need for horseplay and I certainly didn’t want to pull and reel so hard as to make it only a story. When I finally got the fish to my hand on the side of my kayak, I got a good grip of the fishes mouth, stuck my hand in and pulled up a monster. It came up in slow motion. There was along pause when lifting the fish up before I saw its tail. Absolutely enormous. I thought to myself as we paddled towards each other , so I could give them a look. We were all amazed. This was the biggest bass that they have ever seen. I decided that the best thing to do was to paddle to shore for a quick photograph and an “official weigh in”. So we were off to shore, before all hell broke loose.
I’m not sure why I turned around to look at them, but what I did see was their boat going down. They were tipping over at a slow pace sideways. Now you’d think that something like this would happen fast, but being there and at the moment I recalled it being similar to the sinking of the titanic. The two had leaned the same way, and that was it. There was splashing and they disappeared.
Apparently they were under the canoe and swimming in an upward motion as to keep the boat up. Sucking air from underneath they struggled their way towards an area where they could touch.. I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or save them. At the moment I didn’t do either. I sat on my kayak with my jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought the moon magic had me hallucinating for a minute. This was a serious “man-down” incident and nobody laughs till afterwards.
We all approached the shore slowly, except they walked there dripping, splashing and dragging the canoe. They were not happy with what happened. Blackberry’s were lost and so were house keys. Bummer. One of them threw his shirt and went up the hill swearing, and the other hopped back in the canoe. Half way filled with water and ready to go down at any given moment, he slowly paddled up to me. At this point I couldn’t identify who was who, but I think he gave me a slight smile, shivered and paddled home. “peace benham”
Wow that was a trip. When I hit the shore, I carried on with my business, as to things properly and provide my lunker of a bass with a safe release. I took off my shoes and socks and rolled up my pant legs as to stand in the water and pump some water back into the fish’s gills. One of my hands reached into the tackle box and pulled out my digital scale. My thumb hit the on switch and I slid the piece under the gill of the fish and let it hang there for a second. With my free hand, I grabbed a lighter from my pocket and flicked the bic and held the flame to my digital scale.
I held the fish one more time under the full moon and admired it’s length and girth. This was indeed, a big largemouth bass. I stuck my fist in the fishes mouth, just to double check that this was really happening. Then I bent down on my knees and the fish finally swam off. Maybe to live out his years to eat the alewife’s every year. Fat boy himself. Go, swim away my friend. You were fun and I had a great time catching you.
I stood up and wiped my hands on my jeans and looked up at the stars, and the big moon and smiled to myself. That was one hell of a fish! As I put my shoes back on I noticed a bat fluttering in the distance.
There’s always been some unexplainable mystery involved in the full moon. Its an odd addiction and a crazy one. The warewolfs come out, canoe’s tip over and that crazy bat is coming back after me. Time to leave now. And as I walked back up the trail , the song found its way back into my head again. “Have to work today, yay me yay me” Shut up matt, your scale got to weigh a big fish today.

Turkey Vulture

Let's face it, i was stumped. I had been seeing some strange bird of prey, which was out of the norm for long island, circling above, as birds of prey normally do.
The new bird of which (according to my fishing journal) I had seen three times in the late of march. This bird is absoluteley hugh, and extremeley dark, with a bit of lighter collorings towards the tips of the wings.

-now- my original guess, was something in the falcon family, but that couldnt be backed by any bird-identifying book. My nana mentioned that there are other members of the hawk family, some of which would not have the red tail.

so earlier today, in one of my outdoorsish spots i went walking with my music and my camera. Now at the end of the hike that i normally run (walked today though) I entered to the shelter to discuss among the gods this newfangled visitor. I did my normal walk around saying hi to all of the non-homeosapien friends, when he acknowledged my presence. He probally noticed my camera slung around my neck, and advantage wetlands camo hat from texas, appearing to have an outdoorshish flavor. Now among the "god" you can and have the ability to open your mouth about things. He knows that im excited about the thousands of ells about to make their migration up from the salts but on the other hand, i myself (not a god of nature) do decide to keep some things to myself. ASn exaplle is my experience with the bobcat, because in any nature-god'ed mind i'd be full of shit. Similiar to saying that i have seen a yetti.

not looking up from his computer (even god's have computers) he said "hows it going"
and that started our conversation. I usually start something of this nature with "whats new and exciting around"..and after a little humming and thinking to himself he relpied "red tailed hawks started building their nests". Finally enough of a question to drop the bomb. "ya know ive been seeing this new bird of prey circling above, 3 times in the past 2 weeks, really really big with some lighter by the wing tips and i have no idea what it is" and he looked up from his computer, as if i had given him the password to santa's christas list- and our eyes met and he said two words "turkey vulture".

I thanked him and didnt want to waste his time so i carried on. As i was waling out the door i heard him mumble to me with my back turned as i was walking out the door "hey where did you see them?" and i explained that i think where the two forks of long island connect.- actually i didnt say that i said

county road 51 and on the north fork

and god replied "they have stoped here on their migration journey, not shure what theyre doing, but your the seccond person that reported a sighting"

as i left he probally made a note of the sighting into his computer, minimizing santa;'s christmas list. I exited and god stayed there thinking and thinking and thinking.

Who would have ever thought that there are turkey vultures on long island.

They I migrated back to work.

super star-

disclamer from the auther: Im sorry, to all blog readers. Im sorry for being a terrible researcher. Anyways, i search and searched and searched for the article that was published the the southampton press 3 years ago about the legend of weesuck creek and how our land got the title "the fourth neck"
so- to the best of my ability- this is what i remember-

when the settlers came in to take this land from the indians it was of upmost value and worth fighting for. so a great battle took place right here in our land of east quoge at weesuck creek. Obviously, the settlers having more advanced weapons took control of the battle and land from the indians. At the very end , four indian cheifs were beheaded in weesuck creek. On the fourth beheading of the highest and most important indian cheif, a grave and mysterious fog rolled in from the salts filling the land and infesting the settlers with a deadly diesease. they all died

in refference to this story is my new age protector of the legend. The great Blood Heron, getting his title from the small blood trail from the ancient battle which he protects. I look for him every day of my life, and have told my friends about him and even wrote a powerfull peice for the readers of gayspace. he truly haunts my existance, beautiful, yet....a superstar.


im always asking myself waht i believe in- a mysterious difference within all of our minds. some will believe this, and some that. Im always a wondering soul, staring up at the stars.
Whenever im driving and a black cat crosses my pathways far ahead, scattering across the road for whatever reason- this chills my spine- however- no matthew benham, you do not believe in this. This is no bad luck for you at all, and there's no possible reason why this stupid cat should have any effect on your day.
Now, theres another being that has the power to effect my mind and therefore my life. The Great Blood Heron of Weesuck Creek. To my dearest friend the GBH. I built you up to fame and fortune, and wrote about you, and looked for you every day always and forever. On the days that i saw you there in your spot, a smile built its way uppon my face and i felt loved and cherished. On the days that your not there, i simply accept this. It wont ruin my existance. Now that all my friends look for you, your truely a superstar. we might as well call you lupe fiasco. Its a fact that my Great Blood Heron sits perched on his bog 60% of the time. Not bad odds. Things have been weird though. I have not seen you in some time now, and it gets me thinking, about my life and if im really content, and how a bird has grown uppon my superstitions. I dont believe in bad luck from breaking a mirror, or walking under a ladder, but i do however believe- that you the great blood heron have the power to bring about the good in my life. Simply by being there- in your spot. Do it for me my friend. Come Back Please. Ive been blind from your beauty for two weeks, and even some of my friends are starting to worry. you superstar you. oh the fame and fortune has brought you away from your home-just east of quogue, north of montauk hw in Weesuck creek. Your the bearrer to the awesome myth and legend of the fourth neck and the indians. You are the protector and have the power, to grant me my love. You are my one superstision- the only one i have ever believed in, which was was built up by myself.

until just a half hr ago, as i was driving home from 7-11 it was too dark to see you, or the possibility of your presence-so just then, ive been attempting to get over you, as if your an ex lover or some tall tale, or some fable that never happened. I just want everyone to know that you are real, and brought my luck and good fortune.

farther up the road.
i was blinded by a shooting star that shined for so long and even put a powerfull glare going down my front window. so strong that i almost crashed my car as my eyes were glued to the sky. I didnt make a wish uppon this shooting star, because right than, at that instance, i realized that i dont need a tall bird tale, or smaller lucky charms in life. at that moment i realized one thing that believe in. I believe in you matt benham. more than the legend of lupe fiasco in bird form. my Great Blood Heron , you are a superstar indeed. I know you will return. As of now, maybe just for a bit, until my bird legen returns, matt benham, that shooting star made you a
super
star.

Dear Pete

this peice is dedicated to my friend pete, I know he's responsible for the majority of my blogger viewings, i figured i'd write one with the possibility of inspiring him.- there are good, powerfull and amazings things out there in the world. if you never knew that than now you do. because-
I
just
informed
you

We can write about anything, you and I both Peter. Recreate any experience at all. Maybe- more importantly than being here, at our computer with an open mind, is the process of chosing our subjects properly. I believe in freedom. Like its some secret unspoken rule hidden away in our rights as americans. Our rights as humans. The thought that even the foulest of experiences may make for some of the most interesting and promosing peices. There are , in fact, some areas of my life that maybe I just dont want to share with the common folk. Even though, these situations, thoughts and instances are among the most powerfull- maybe we shall embrace the idea of chooseing our subjects wisely. It haunts me a little bit though my friend- just yesterday, do you remember when you were filling up my mp3 player with tunes and you read me the peice anout your kjsdfn;dk;jvndkn? I thought that was a ever so powerfull collaboration of words. It did youch me , being able to listen to the story. Maybe i'm the only one that will ever be graced with a peice such as the one that you read to me. We even conversated for a moment about the subject, and from some of the words chosen to describe what happened-I was able to remember the date. Except it was different. I had no idea at all that situations like this maybe for some folk could happen say, twice a week was it that you said? well at that point in time. Anyways my friend, its just an odd thought that maybe some people dont write for money or to inform. There's also some mystery hidden away. Just like you said you wouldnt want anyone reading that ever , unless they do after you die. Shit like that just keeps crunching away at my brain, its like, some people just do it, to it my friend. I have to think deeply about touching uppon some subjects such as yours. I mean- we are different people, yet in some strange areas of our life I think we're mysteriously connected. Even if it starts from the music in my mp3 player. Theres a little bit of influence in everyone, being fed from all different directions. Your peice did influence me to touch uppon subjects of a different matter. I enjoy outdoor adventure themed writing, but on a different aspect- I think we both know that theres more to be said than what one can learn from the birds and the bees and obviously the fish. I'd like to make people happy one day- through writing. I dont think its an easy task, and I wouldnt know how to go about doing it. Every now and again when im reading over a peice that i have jotted down in the past im left with a goodhearted unexplainable feeling- obviously caused by myself. weird right? Maybe its just so damn powerfull that you can even use it as a tool to better yourself.
ok
what
im
tryin
to say
peter
is

Maybe the most powerfull peices of writring arent supposed to be read. Mysterious subjects, even foul themed. Maybe at the time you could have be going through hell, but dosent it warm your soul just hearing me tell you that ive felt inspired by writing such as yours. Remember when I told you about my book and how it will only be started/published when its found- away at the time capsule at the bottom of the pond? (aka the guidebook for the journey) You and I are similiar man. You reading me the peice that you read aloud just yesterday goes hand in hand, and maybe a peice such as that one- should currently reside in "the waiting room" underwater, in the time capsule.

on
a
different
note
peter

just this morning after vommiting over the toilet as my stomach muscles were still cramping from the devils breath- I turned around a grabbed the sink, slowly looking up at my shirtless, sweating body.
My bloodshot watery eyes gazed back at themselves through the mirror and I felt the strongest deja vu, except I remember the person that i was staring back at. I havent seem him in quite some time- its been years in fact. Im discusted by the feeling and by the experience, yet in some unexplainable way a small smirk showed its way from the corner of my lips. "I know you" I said aloud- being the weirdo that i am.

Maybe our "guidebook for the journey" will never really end until the day that we die. And our anventures may never be read for hundreds of years. All I know now is that, in this life- the process of learning about one self, and the freedom to write aout it is a ever so powerfull one.

just
maybe

Its time for a swim, to go adding to the book of our lives- only to be found in our next life. Except this time, peter, it would be an honor to add some peices such as yours. a collaboration of the original starnger and the outdoorsman. it has a nice ring to it dosent it?

follow
me
down
the
rabbit
hole

Into the Lions Den

Even though I view life as a simple easy, breezy, smiling towards the sun process- deep down in my heart I’m always longing for my “nitche in society”. Yes, sometimes it gets to me being that im 24 and do not have a wad of cold cash in my pocket. I like to think that my constant glow of life and the feeling of freedom is always a part of my heritage, and now even embedded into my fingerprints. I am happy, and always will be simply ecstatic being Matthew Benham. For some of us, maybe that big wad of cash isn’t as important as the smell of freshly cut grass in the summertime, or being at the bowling ally with your friends every Thursday night as of late. Or even left alone with my thoughts at any of my secret spots, where I can be my absolute self and enjoy the process of learning about the world through my everyday existence.
As life goes on all that im ever doing is progressing and learning. Bettering myself everyday, in health and in happiness. The truth is that I feel absolutely great about everything, all day and everyday. Im not quite sure if any one person or even team could put the smallest of dents into my pride or well being. In fact, I tend to look forward to the obstacles and when it really comes down to it, maybe one day I will have the opportunity to achieve absolute and unfiltered greatness.
I realized that there’s no easy and simple way to approach doing this. Living a lazy life leaves you with no options and you may never even have the opportunity to experiment and even take aim at any “nitche” at all. Theres a strong feeling of standing tall and throwing yourself into the lions den so to speak. Go out there and open up your options, with a conclusion of the experience in the realest of forms.
Taking the plunge “into the lions den” will only benefit you. Go and try out for the best, most qualified job, career or even military branch. Picture it as so- working out at the gym with someone using steroids. They exit the bathroom slapping their joint-opposite their elbow- and their eyes look up into yours and after a long pause, and their pupils dilate just a bit and they ask “are you ready?”
The question of “are you ready?” isn’t the important factor taking place here, it’s the experience of being among the best and strongest and training yourself with the same mind frame with the only exception of a healthy approach. Strong , powerful experience can mold the person you are and to be honest, if your plunging directly into the lions den so to speak, maybe right off the bat you have no chance of wining the fight so to speak. What you can learn from this is everything. Maybe after the fight you realized your not the person you thought you once were, you’re a bit more level minded and keep your head up and ready for anything at any given time.
We as humans, must take the “lions den” approach to improving our existence. We must go out, and keep the thought constant to higher our own standards for the better of ourselves. Maybe it will better everyone, not just yourself. You start attending the gym, than maybe out of kindness your friends may understand that your attempting the path to grown stronger and they just may, offer you their company.
More importantly than me sitting here at my computer writing this, is how it relates into my life. Its no secret that I took the Suffolk County Police Department Test and did well. Now, am I going to become a police office officer as a cause from this? - most likely not. Would I like to and enjoy being one? Yes. This is so because it’s the absolute best god thing out there for someone in my place and frankly anyone local of my age. Now, when I took the test I had no idea what to expect at all, and maybe in retrospect I was “throwing myself into the lions den”. Now that I’m down the road and passed the agility portion I have decided that- whatever happens, I’m absolutely glad to have benefited from the experience. Running at the Quogue Wildlife Refuge everyday was/has been the most enjoyable of all blessings for an outdoorsman feeling the coming spring. Maybe , for someone in my shoes, I have stumbled into enlightenment. Brought fourth the idea that I am in absolute control, and can throw my body, mind into any career or any situation necessary for my existence as a whole to learn and progress from the experience. Assuming that I cannot beat any lion in a fight- is a deeper frame of mind that I have even made it in all of my 24 years of existence. Why run for president when you know you have no chance, and the numbers prove that its just about impossible. Maybe you’ll learn something along the way, about the world, about the wars, about how our country is run and governed and most of all, I hope that you just may have learned something about yourself and maybe your views on the world and the ideas in which you reside.
I highly believe in this approach and as my body and mind grow stronger/healthier with time, I just may throw myself out there in the world in hopes of one day holding the power to do something bigger in society. Help those in need of help, for maybe one day when I was younger it was me and my mind which was stuck in the dark room of existence. I’m just glad that through the slimest of numbers I have a mind so fresh and growing the intelligence to take note and say aloud to myself “hey Matt wait, This experience will make you a better person” .So yes, my “nitche in society” will ultimately clash and go hand and hand with the pathways deemed “caution- absolute greatness, only progress knowing that at the end the lion awaits you”

Be Weary of King Lhama, He's a Fraud and Plagiarist

in response to seagull we hit because we thought it was a plastice bag in the street and feathers came in through the sunroof  the thing about the things we work hard and put so much effort into(live seagull), yet for often some odd reason unwittingly leave behind(feathers) is that once they're left behind, some often get placed into the never to be finished pile(carcass in the street). A perpetually growing pile. A pile full of bright ideas that were never finished being thunk, epiphanies that were never quite piffed. A sad and lonely pile that should never be totally abandoned, because the potential is still there. That's when the scavengers(crows, even other seagulls) arrive to eat the carcass (reap the benefits of the pile) The the first scavenger on the scene examines the carcass, eats all the good parts; the liver, kidneys brains. He gains all the nutrients and and reaps every benefit of the good parts(takes somebodys unfinished pile) . And then, after sucking every delectable bit of the carcass he calls the others. He plays dumb. Yo, dude bird check out what i found man. And gains fame, noteriety and grandiose praise for his willingness to share the bounty with the others, the oblivious and autonomous scavengers. The first one on the scene emerges supreme. Getting to deep and weird for me and i'm getting lost in my metaphors. The moral of the story is that if you hit a very smart seagull with your car, make sure you turn back and hit hit the first one that comes to eat him because if he's one of the smart ones too, he can be very very dangerous, like King Lhama, but a fraud that stole every good idea he ever had.