Good morning, I'm Renee Montagne. I have goldfish. They're small. On the other hand, my goldfish don't live in a lake, or at least one has gotten very, very big.
Fishing at Lake St. Claire, Michigan last weekend, Mark Martin reeled in a goldfish big enough to mount on his wall. Most likely dumped by a former owner, it weighed more than three pounds and is nearly 15 inches long. It might be a record catch, if Michigan kept records on goldfish.
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Scientists already know that mercury can be a hazardous neurotoxin to both fish and anglers chowing down on their catches. But a plan to monitor the way the heavy metal cycles through the environment has taken on a new significance at a reservoir in northern Colorado.
In the middle of Charlotte, N.C.'s toniest historic neighborhood, a pond in a local park has become the city's unlikely fishing hole.
Many residents consider Freedom Park one of the city's prettiest, and when summer arrives the fishermen come out, hoping to catch "the big one."
A tiny bream wriggles on the end of 11-year-old Ciarra Carella's line. She's fishing with a piece of hotdog, her line dangling off the edge of a lovely stone bridge. It's a popular spot for wedding photos and for bringing your kids to feed the ducks.
For most of American history, early spring meant a feast of shad. That tradition has faded, but young chefs are trying to slip the ritual back onto plates.
The earliest Americans from from Florida to Nova Scotia caught shad by the basketful as they swam back from the sea to spawn in their home rivers. The fresh, silvery fish was most certainly a delight after winter's dreary fare. The American shad's Latin name is clue to its allure: Alosasapadissima, or most delicious herring.