Canadian Dream

Les Rêves Canadiens

Fisher of Men was a labour of love. As I became closer to my Dad, I remembered the times that he was there with me. The closest times that we had were the few times he took me fishing. There was a time in particular when we drove out into the countryside to a trout stream. Dad found a trout sleeping on the bottom of the stream. He lowered his hook down slowly beside the sleeping fish. To my child mind it seemed to take hours. He waited till the hook twisted around and under the fish and then jerked it up and on to the bank. I will never forget that moment. The painting was done by drumming on the canvas. I had a lot of fun with this painting.
The oil is 24"X36". Completed Fall 1991. $1200.00 Can. unframed.

                  Fisher of Men

             Dad settled on the wooden dock
             Small enough for only us
             It rocked when we'd walk
             It dipped into the bliss

             We put our poles over the river
             That glided a deep sad mile
             Cold it made me shiver
             But the sun made him smile

             We were a long time without talk
             A long day hoarding treasure
             Reeling in our long poles
             Straining at our tethers

             We couldn't say hello
             Till it was time to go
             Now the days are clouding in
             We've both lost the son.

cope@reach.net