There are a surprising amount of people here given how early it is on a Sunday morning when I arrive at the Arvada Blunn Reservoir to watch the sun rise shortly before 6 a.m. I park, take out my …
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There are a surprising amount of people here given how early it is on a Sunday morning when I arrive at the Arvada Blunn Reservoir to watch the sun rise shortly before 6 a.m. I park, take out my camera, and start snapping photos. I do my best to capture the movement of the subdued pinks and oranges of the sunrise on the water. The sunrise becomes more and more stunning with every passing moment.
Around 6:15, the sun finally peeks up over the horizon and an identical reflection stretches across the water. A mother and her young son cast fishing lines in front of me, their silhouettes framed by the rising sun. Her son asks seemingly endless questions, wanting to know everything about fishing.
“What if I don’t catch anything?” he asks his mother.
“Well, then you cast again,” responds his mother. This can be applied to anything in life, I think. If at first you do not succeed, then try again.
I have returned to the reservoir in the heat of the August sun. I take in my surroundings, noticing everything around me as I momentarily get away from the stress of school starting. I am already sweating, and a cool breeze offers temporary relief from the heat. As the sun beats down, the sound of late summer cicadas fills my ears along with the gentle lapping of the water on the shore.
At the fishing pier, Deanna Fine and her daughter Jennifer Devine sit in lawn chairs with umbrellas for protection against the heat. Fine shows me her fishing poles. So far she has not caught anything, but when she has come to the reservoir before she has caught two pound rainbow trout. The reservoir has a limit of four fish per person, and Fine and her daughter are looking to catch fish for dinner.
At the ramp leading down to the pier, a bull snake moves silently through the rocks. Park ranger Betty Miller comes up to me in a golf cart.
“We’re on snake patrol,” she says. She is looking for rattlesnakes, not bull snakes. Bull snakes are harmless, she tells me, and will actually chase away the rattlers.
Farther down the shore, Bill Stuart is teaching his son Liam how to fish. Liam is very enthusiastic, Stuart says. Liam has been practicing casting in their living room and this is his second time fishing.
I can see the traffic on Highway 93 from where I stand on the Ed South Memorial Fishing Pier, but I do not feel like I am in the middle of the suburbs. The Arvada Reservoir has given me an escape today, a place where I can forget about life and connect with nature.
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