Zen in a bowl
Mar. 5th, 2008 10:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_goren_showFor many years now, ever since an fifty-nine cent life brought much joy to a severely depressed soul, there has been a fish in a bowl on a corner of my desk.
The last two weeks have been difficult. Zen, a betta of two years residence, died on February 14 and I decided I was done with fish keeping. I don't like keeping a tank (turns out I'm death to tanks - I cannot make them live for the life of me, even with an experienced fish keeper helping) and a betta in a bowl has been a good compromise. With the loss of Zen on a day that was already hard on me, I made a decison.
No more fish.
Turns out that while the space on my desk is at a premium, the amount taken up by a betta bowl is more than paid for by the simple joy I receive from having a little soul to share my empty nights. Until tonight, my companions through the hours of darkness and the wolf howling have been a variety of goldfish (alas, none as defiant of death as Nitz, the very first of my midnight co-pilots) and blue bettas. Yes, until tonight.
Tonight I went out with a friend and bought another betta. I went with the thought of having a new fish, fed up with the empty space on my desk and the lack of a calming influence in the night's loneliness. This time, I had my thoughts on a red betta for something different. Then I laid eyes on Francis.
Named for a long lost friend, Francis (like his namesake) is blond and blue - his body is mostly a blond yellow colour with the tips of his scales light blue; and his fins mottled - with the predominant colour blue. As with any life long used to tiny spaces, he is exploring his new roomy fish condo on my desk and I find myself comforted.
My world is right once more.
I have my co-pilot.
The last two weeks have been difficult. Zen, a betta of two years residence, died on February 14 and I decided I was done with fish keeping. I don't like keeping a tank (turns out I'm death to tanks - I cannot make them live for the life of me, even with an experienced fish keeper helping) and a betta in a bowl has been a good compromise. With the loss of Zen on a day that was already hard on me, I made a decison.
No more fish.
Turns out that while the space on my desk is at a premium, the amount taken up by a betta bowl is more than paid for by the simple joy I receive from having a little soul to share my empty nights. Until tonight, my companions through the hours of darkness and the wolf howling have been a variety of goldfish (alas, none as defiant of death as Nitz, the very first of my midnight co-pilots) and blue bettas. Yes, until tonight.
Tonight I went out with a friend and bought another betta. I went with the thought of having a new fish, fed up with the empty space on my desk and the lack of a calming influence in the night's loneliness. This time, I had my thoughts on a red betta for something different. Then I laid eyes on Francis.
Named for a long lost friend, Francis (like his namesake) is blond and blue - his body is mostly a blond yellow colour with the tips of his scales light blue; and his fins mottled - with the predominant colour blue. As with any life long used to tiny spaces, he is exploring his new roomy fish condo on my desk and I find myself comforted.
My world is right once more.
I have my co-pilot.
