A Short Time at Tibbett’s . . .
One busy day off encumbered by multiple projects may convince you there is no time for fishing. There is. Three or four hours at the end of the afternoon spill before you like a glass set beside an unopened bottle of wine. Time enough, though truncated. The goal, fresh air, and to be gripped to a cork handle, arm held strong in the wrestle with a fish.
The path that passes like a spine north through Van Cortlandt Park in The Bronx is one best run. The occasional lingerer, for whatever purpose, may at times shadow a more slow footed exploration of the path. The plus side of this urban nature space still wins a day spent angling here. Tree canopy above is impressive and full of common eastern songbirds. The public golf course on the eastern side of the path affords glimpses at some good games in process.
Running tenkara continues to make fishing life more easy. Horizons expand. Running feet have the ability to arrive energized, to rush unmolested beyond strangers, and to connect promising fishing spots like dots along the brook.
Tibbett’s Brook, like the path, connects the lakes of two city’s. One can follow this path and continue north to Tibbett’s Brook Park, but that is not NYC; the park resides in Yonkers.
So, the Tibbett’s Brook, then. October sees the very tips of just some trees turning toward the yellow or the red. The brook, as does the Van Cortlandt Lake, reflects low, clear water.
The fish? Bluegill. Crappie. One pair of largemouth bass cruised in parallel swimming pattern in a manner that resembled a mathematical equal sign, which hinted at other impulses in mind. A few more bluegill; a sweet spot of crappie bright like tarnished uncirculated silver. More than one a full handful, even on a bright, chilly afternoon trip of a few hours on runner’s foot.
Time enough. Tenkara Time.
— rPs 10 25 2016