My daughter Jourdan and I have turned a page in our lives. No longer do I have to cart her around. Jourdan now has her permanent driver’s license. Her independence has already allowed me to take a morning to go fishing.

I had tried to ice fish this pit a couple of times last winter, but the ice was too thin. The owner doesn’t permit many people to fish, so I considered myself lucky to get the invite. The pond owner was also kind enough to leave a two-man bass boat tied to the pier for my use.

This is the pit where I took my grandsons, Grant and Nick, to fish a few weeks ago. We stood on the dock and caught several bluegill and crappie.

The first time around the lake, I fished for bass with a Slider worm. I caught several largemouth, but none measuring more than 14 inches. I made a mental note each time a bluegill tapped my plastic offering.

Finally, I picked up my ultra-light rigged with a Muey A&A bluegill jig and began casting to a shallow flat. The bait landed in inches of water. My 1/32nd-ounce lure tipped with a bee moth had only moved a foot when a big, orange breasted male slammed it. This action continued nonstop for several minutes.

The male bluegill were on the shallow flats guarding nests. If I wanted to catch a female, I would have retrieve the jig through 10 feet of water. The males are brightly colored. The females have a grayish or green color that is dull in comparison to the male. This is much like the difference between a male and female cardinal.

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My doctor told me to get in shape, lose weight and get healthy. I told him that I do a lot of walking during deer season. He said walking to my tree stand a few times a year wasn’t a regular regimen.

Last Monday morning, I left home on shank’s pony headed for the bridge on Lick Creek and beyond. As I passed a high-tension tower, a red-tailed hawk screeched at me in protest. I said, “Good morning.” The hawk stayed put on his high perch and continued to screech.

I passed an old apple tree that hung over the road. Strong winds had ripped many of the maturing apples from their stems, and they were lying along the edge of the less traveled county road.

When I reached the bridge and looked over the edge, I saw three soft-shelled turtles sunning themselves on big rocks. While the turtles were sliding into the water, movement caught my eye from the bank. A mother groundhog and her young of the year scuttled to a burrow under the bridge.

On a fence row up the hill from the bridge, I noticed raspberries that were just a few days away from being ripe. In fact, one was ripe.  It’s about time for my “Pies For Dumb Guys” recipe. I’ll try to get that in next week.

On my way back past the tower, I had forgotten about the hawk, but his screech turned my head again. This was his turf, and I was trespassing.

There are many things to notice an enjoy on a walk down a quiet country road — try it.