Someone once said that fish were the most mysterious animals on the planet. It makes sense for that to be an assumption, as silence is so often cloaked in mystery, and fish would be among the most silent animals we know. I like the idea of fish being mysterious, and carrying secrets to their watery graves before we even know what to ask. Humans have analyzed and examined so many things to death, there is less and less that we no longer know – and not knowing is part of the joy of life. Some mysteries can never be solved, which is as thrilling as it may be infuriating for some. Personally, I like leaning into the mystery, being left with things slightly unknown, and certainty only guessed at. It stands as one of the many exceptions to my organized, Virgo nature.
The koi seen here are housed at Koto Restaurant. Andy and I pause to inspect them whenever we dine there, and I could feasibly spend hours just watching them slowly swim back and forth in their pond, not once understanding or fully knowing why they do what they do. For the longest time, I’ve wanted a koi pond of our own; Andy’s fully on board for it as well, we just need to find the space, and time, and human-labor to make it happen. They need a lot of space, and most people don’t dig their ponds deep enough; that would be fatal in our winters.
Maybe this is the winter I plan and plot and incubate the idea of how it might actually occur – the same way I used to make plans for the garden when it was asleep during these months. Knowledge and planning are key components to trying something new.
