It’s astounding the places trout can take you

Spring’s here. I know that for sure. The pear trees are starting to bloom, and the nose is starting to itch. Pear trees and pollen are the sure harbingers of spring.

and wide with plastic milk jugs and even big glass mayonnaise jars to take some of that water home. The water eventually flows into the park’s swimming lake, an understandably popular spot, especially as the days grow warmer. The temperatures are not there yet, but it won’t be long.

like that they all somehow congregated in the water near where we stood.

“Watch this,” I said, and tossed a half dozen of the trout chow pellets into the water. The fish were on ‘em in a flash.

“Well!” she said.

“Now it’s your turn!” I said.

happened to the light and how it was all bright and clear and crystalline blue all of a sudden. And then the lady looked at us – at her, at me – and then pointed at the two of us –

-- and said, “You two are perfect together” –

STEVE HUDSON

Trout are a sure harbinger of spring too. It’s fun to fish for them, and it’s fun to just go see them too.

There are some neat places to see trout in northern Georgia, too, and one that’s near and dear to my heart is Rolater Park in the town of Cave Spring. You may remember Cave Spring as the site of Southern Flavor, that wonderful restaurant with the all-you-can-eat catfish. We’ve talked about that before, and thinking about it is making me hungry again. How long till lunchtime?

The cave part of Cave Spring, which is the centerpiece of Rolater Park, is not large as caves go. You can explore it in just a few minutes. But the spring part makes up for it. A flowing spring yields about 2 million gallons of cold, cold water a day. It’s been described as “the purest, best-tasting water you’re likely to find anywhere,” and folks come from far

But today we’re looking at what happens between the cave and the swimming lake. After exiting the cave, the water flows into a nice little reflecting pond.

And said pond is usually the home to trout.

“Do people catch them?” she asked. We were waiting to go across the street to lunch, so we had a little time.

“No,” I said, “but we can feed them. Would you like to?”

“Yes,” she said. “That sounds like fun!”

I moseyed over to the cave entrance, where trout chow is for sale. For the cost of a cup of coffee, I bought three or four little plastic bags of food-for-trout – enough, I figured, to keep us and the trout entertained for a while.

I walked back to where she waited for me, there on the little walkway by the pond. The trout seemed to know that something good was about to happen. It was like the word had gone out, and just

I poured some of the trout chow into her hand, and she tossed it into the water, and the trout were all over it, and water was flying everywhere, and she laughed out loud.

“This is neat!” she said.

The feeding continued, and the splashing and the laughter did too. We used up one bag of food, and then started on a second, stopping to show two young children how to feed the fish too.

“I think I need more trout food,” she said, laughing, and again I poured some into her hand.

More laughter. More splashes. Smiles all around.

She was having fun. I was too.

And then…

You know that feeling you get sometimes when someone is looking at you? I got it then.

For some reason I turned around, and looked, and I saw a lady standing there near the two of us. I remember how in that instant something funny

-- and then turned and walked away. And then everything kind of stopped. It does that, sometimes, when something really significant is happening.

In that instant out-of-time moment, in that moment by the cool, clear water with the trout and the sky, there we were. Just the two of us, it seemed, there on the little walkway near the pond at Rolater Park in Cave Spring, Ga., zip code 30124. Nearby, the children were still feeding trout. But the scene had refocused. The center of the image had changed.

There was silence, hushed, expectant. “Did you hear that?” she asked, her voice a little low.

“I did,” replied. We stood there for a moment. She leaned on the railing. I looked at her, and she looked at me.

Time out of time -

And then time returned to normal. And we went and had catfish for lunch. You never know where trout are going to take you.