Bakers Half-Dozen

In an unexpected turn of events seven goldfish were rescued today from a fountain in a frozen front yard in Denver. The goldfish had survived many weeks of below freezing weather hiding among fallen leaves deep in the murky water. Overlooking this placid pool a statue of Kuan Yin in royal pose dangled her compassionate foot. The fountain was being emptied for winter, when the last few inches of water revealed shiny bits of sunlight in the sludge, wiggling and ducking under the shadows of decomposed leaves. The homeowner rushed to the kitchen for a bowl of water and a sieve. Scooping up the squirmy orange stowaways and plopping them into their new home. She knew just where to find the only fishbowl like object in her home and mumbled with irritation to herself, "Why do people always give me fish? I'm not a fish person. I don't like cleaning the bowl. I never have bought myself a single fish or insinuated to anyone that I was interested in fish. Humph!" After the fountain was dry, the pump packed away and the plants once floating in the pool given to neighbors, the new fish owner returned to her kitchen to examine the catch. Six bright orange and one pale peach inch-long little floaters gulping water like air. They made her strangely happy even as she was annoyed. In truth she knew her summer house guests had put fish in the fountain. After returning from her travels she looked for them, sprinkled food on the surface several times and never saw anything in the dark water. She assumed, or was hoping, raccoons had eaten them.

While rescuing the goldfish from their frozen fate she wondered, what must it be like to have a power much greater than yourself pick you up out of an underworld that is so murky you can't see your tail if you turn around. Drop you into a transparent bowl of clear water where you can see not only yourself and your fellow fish but the world outside of the glass bowl with crystal clarity? It must be akin to what humans call a spiritual awakening. Suddenly you can see things you felt existed but had no proof of, the sun, the moon, other sentient beings. Upon arrival in the kitchen her fish-mates all hid behind the roots of a plant she added to make their underwater world feel more like the murky pool they came from. A few hours later, eyes adjusted to the bright light and warmth of this new universe, the bakers half-dozen pushed up against the glass curiously following every movement in the kitchen. "What AM I going to do with these fish?" she fussed, enjoying the company.