My last post was only up minutes before I got the first “where’s the catfish picture” email. So, here is the catfish. Stripped of its meat and left to hang as a trophy. Not necessarily a “pretty picture” but, I think, a beautiful image. Left by the fishermen with a sense of pride … this was in our bayou … and we caught it.
A naturally decaying trophy, not hung on a wall somewhere, but gradually returning to the rich soil of Louisiana.
I used to swim in Bayou Bartholomew, long ago, in an isolated area, before a subdivision grew up there. When we had to scare the alligators away before we could get in the water. Back when I was a kid and didn’t know better. And, undoubtedly, before Child Protective Services was invented.