twelve year old joseph is starting to fall in love with fishing, which is an event his father has been waiting for, sometimes patiently, sometimes not, for a number of years. one of joe’s stated goals for this trip for france was to go fishing on one of our favorite rivers, the endlessly beautiful orb, which winds between wooded banks from the hills behind us, down onto the coastal plain, before emptying into the hérault river and eventually into the mediterranean. there are trout in most of its upper reaches, and steve and joe climbed into the river together one morning last week, true fishing buddies for the first time. it was an auspicious moment, and we all would have considered it even more so, if we had recognized that the deeply veined leaves of the small trees lining the bank of the river next to us were alder leaves–the same tree that lines the banks of most of steve’s favorite trout streams in michigan and minnesota. no fish were caught that day, but two days later the boys went out alone together, and, on the verge of giving up, they caught a small brown trout from behind a rock in the middle of the stream, and had, at last, successfully fished on the orb. i’m afraid i’ll be seeing less of both of them over the next few years.

alder leaves (feuilles d’aulne)

orb river, le bousquet d’orb, languedoc, france

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