As Slick As Glass

  Quite often, something will suddenly jog a memory that has been lurking back in the deep, dark depths of my brain.  I think memories hide behind the cobwebs of time that fill our minds and then, like some secretive spider will come bouncing out to surprise us.  It does not take much...the smell of fresh baked cookies, the sound of tinkling bells or even the softness of a piece of scrap velvet.   Our senses can make that bouncy spider become ecstatic and cause memories to flood our brains.  My brain was joggled into a whirlwind of memories of Pop the other day simply by calm waters.  

  Back in the day, Pop fished a lot.  He would rise before dawn to fish a few hours before heading to the fields.  Then, sometimes late in the evening, he would slip the old wooden skiff back out on the waters of the Bay and fish until darkness chased him back home.  Even though he fished most every day, he never neglected his work on the farm nor shirked the duties with his motor repair business.  But it was that fishing that tickled the brain.  

  As I sat looking at the gorgeous reflections on the Bayou, I could almost hear Pop saying "Its as slick as glass out there!"  Yep, the water's surface did resemble a pane of glass as it mirrored the horizon.  Without a breath of wind, the water was calm and had a glassy appearance.  As slick as glass....its a Deep South thing...one of those sayings that is passed down from one generation to the next...from Pop to daughter.   I miss Pop.