Fish out of water!

So...another strange thing happened the other night. My fish committed suicide. It was a beta fish. I have two. Not together of course. I know the rules. My daughter and I shared responsibility of both Fernando and Frische'.  At some point we no longer knew which was which or whom was whom. We enjoyed the task of taking care of these two beautifully colored fish.  Had it not been my turn to watch over them, I may have wondered about this demise. I was overseeing the new tank, this huge and heavy clear glass nicely shaped vase. It was full to the brim with clean treated water and all necessary steps were taken to provide the fish with all obvious needs. They had recently been fed. It was through my periferal vision I noticed a small blob on the floor in the deep of the night as I briefly awoke. Morning I still saw the form on the way to the coffee pot. I saw it as a leaf from the flowers I had recently disbursed in the same vicinity for trash day. It was 5:15am and still dark. After my third coffee my mind had busied itself with the days events. I can't imagine that I missed it but I did. When Leslie arrived home, the blob caught her eye as well only she was able to see it's true vision. "The fish is dead!" she exclaimed. We investigated further and it was true.  The fish lie there on the floor, dark black. She insisted it moved. I knew it did not but I also know the mind can play tricks so I too, looked close. It was dead. Dead dead. Equally poised we said, "We'll bury it." "Down the toilet!" I reflected. "No" she claimed, "in the lake." I know adding an oft species does damage to an ecosystem. I presumed dead would be fine. Fish food so to speak. Fish food it was. I said a prayer for it's life before and after this moment and sent it on it's way to somewhere. It's a mystery to where it truly returned. Perhaps it still is on it's way to the pond to be? Who knew. I did not. I am not in a fish head. Never have been. I'm not sure how their mind works. Any mind for that matter. Mine included.  I do know, I did want to wear, like a bumper sticker slogan across my upper stomach like a tattoo, the words Anxiety Free Zone and across my forehead I wanted a What! or Whatever!  word as I am so often surprised and then not surprised by so much in my life!  Of course that was pretend. I never got a tattoo I thought to myself as I stared into the pond. Yet. As I viewed my reflection on the water I saw birds fly past in silent delight. Three. I always see three.  The birds flying over, the fish, the fish food, big birds all of it brought me an eerie comfort. In the early morning, 4am, I heard the bird that humms from his belly. hmm, Hhmmm, Hhmmm, Hhmmm. 1 Sharp and 3 staccatos deep from his belly. You know the one lone grey pigeon dove that coos so early on. Then there's the occasional herring. The giant looking Teradactal with the wing span of 3 feet! With a whooping clap of thunderous whoosh he fly's over head and lands so graciously on his thin stem with an eagle prow-less all about him. Perhaps  food for him was found. The green grass clashes with the dense brown hue of this bird. The contrast is striking. I've caught it a bunch of times with my camera but it just never does this bird enough justice. It's graceful sleek form, gigantic in comparison to the other fowl nearby commands attention yet is as coy as can be. One night, in the wee hours, we happened upon one of these birds.  It stood it's ground with no fear of me approaching. It was on my path where the grass meets the bridge. I came upon it suddenly and whilst it held it's ground I did too, walking pass in a confident capable and calming way as if to say, "It's ok. Every thing is fine. We can fit side by side." When I passed, only then did is take to flight. Ahh, my own personal Jonathon Livingston Seagull. Usually there is a matching white one somewhere near by though I have not seen her yet on this visit. They posture to one another for hours on end. This one, my neighbor believes, is a juvenial.  She saw him divebomb and retrieve a fish! I don't mean to get preachy but I've had some real raw close minutes with death. Other duck and bird deaths, animal deaths, people deaths and also my own close calls with death.  I no longer fear it. There are factors I fear around it...just one actually- but death itself- transcending, I do not fear. I transcend death multiple moments throughout my day. That is in part why I am able to live each moment of every day in perfect harmony according with my own self. Like the pond outside my window, nature teaches me everyday the true me inside who operates from heart only, not concentric, not confusion but clearly from the heart only, knows no limits of love. To love and all its fury attached is present as is it's joy with heartache attached. So is its pain present for all to glimpse if we will but rise early and look outside!  We, me, I come to the roundness of my circle with fear heightened at each mile maker passed. One might be pressed to call this the One Fear Factor but no, it's not, tis not... as I round the bend of life I ease into the turn. Fear turned to faith. I have faith in faith. I've learned by now that fear is but an illusion made up in the space between the head and the heart. You need only blink the link apart and be the whole of the half. As you round the curves of life don't just see the road. Hear the birds. Somewhere water flows. Listen for it. The morning bird that coos all day in the No Anxiety Zone, is there. Do you hear that? Is that why my fish died? Did he jump the high road to his own No Anxiety Zone. Did he mistakenly jump to high in a burst of joy. We will perhaps never know. Does it matter. I suppose not. Regardless, he is gone. His memory exists and for now his seashell rests at the deep end of his still clean water well with the shiny glass rocks still reflecting his iridescent light.  I look over my shoulder and he is gone. I look strait away into my pond and he is there. Having always been, is now and forever more in the flowing water of life. I'm reminded of  a group I used to know. They called themselves "Fish out of water!" I'm remembering that wasn't such a bad place to be.  Rest is peace Frische'. Rest in peace.