W
Winfield Hill
- Jan 1, 1970
- 0
Fifteen years ago we bought a fish, a great fish, a beautiful elegant
fish, a Clown Loach. He was about three years old then, and such a
masterful fish, so full of life and elan, springing about the tank,
displaying his bright colors, that we had to get him a partner.
So we bought another small younger Clown Loach.
As the tank's population grew, with new fish of many types and sizes,
the pair of clown loaches remained center stage. In a few years they
grew further, to almost the same size, two large healthy fishes,
swimming in dance formation, exploring the tank for adventure while
courteously avoiding trouble with the other fish. Always intensely
attune to each other, often curving side-by-side, they grabbed our
attention and captivated our imagination. Gracefully darting for
food at feeding time, searching the reaches of the tank during the
quiet times, their flashes of color and intensity helped us know
everything was well in the fish tank world.
As each evening approached, the two brilliant Clown Loaches would begin
an intense battle dance, to determine who would get a favored sleeping
spot. Although there were several conch shells to choose from, they
would contest - dart and dash, swirl and nip back and forth in complex
patterns for up to an hour. Things would seem to settle down, with one
entering the shell... but in a moment he'd back out and the dance would
start again as if to say, we're not done yet, the day offers more before
we sleep. Fins on display, intense colors changing in seconds in an
amazing feat of biochemistry, they commanded attention.
Gradually they'd settle in, first one fish wriggling deep into the shell,
out of sight, followed by over the next five minutes by the remaining
Clown, pressing in like a stopper, with just a red bit of tail hanging
out to indicate where they were.
It was early to bed for these two, often before the tank lights were
dimmed at the appointed hour, "Twilight for the fishes."
This afternoon our master Clown Loach unexpectedly died. We found him
lying in death in the middle of the tank, with his partner of fifteen
years beside him quietly keeping vigil. After the body was removed,
the remaining Loach immediately hid himself and hasn't been seen since.
It's the end of an glorious era for our tank community, the end of the
partnership of these two fine creatures, the end for our original fish,
our beloved fish, and a time for deep sadness.
fish, a Clown Loach. He was about three years old then, and such a
masterful fish, so full of life and elan, springing about the tank,
displaying his bright colors, that we had to get him a partner.
So we bought another small younger Clown Loach.
As the tank's population grew, with new fish of many types and sizes,
the pair of clown loaches remained center stage. In a few years they
grew further, to almost the same size, two large healthy fishes,
swimming in dance formation, exploring the tank for adventure while
courteously avoiding trouble with the other fish. Always intensely
attune to each other, often curving side-by-side, they grabbed our
attention and captivated our imagination. Gracefully darting for
food at feeding time, searching the reaches of the tank during the
quiet times, their flashes of color and intensity helped us know
everything was well in the fish tank world.
As each evening approached, the two brilliant Clown Loaches would begin
an intense battle dance, to determine who would get a favored sleeping
spot. Although there were several conch shells to choose from, they
would contest - dart and dash, swirl and nip back and forth in complex
patterns for up to an hour. Things would seem to settle down, with one
entering the shell... but in a moment he'd back out and the dance would
start again as if to say, we're not done yet, the day offers more before
we sleep. Fins on display, intense colors changing in seconds in an
amazing feat of biochemistry, they commanded attention.
Gradually they'd settle in, first one fish wriggling deep into the shell,
out of sight, followed by over the next five minutes by the remaining
Clown, pressing in like a stopper, with just a red bit of tail hanging
out to indicate where they were.
It was early to bed for these two, often before the tank lights were
dimmed at the appointed hour, "Twilight for the fishes."
This afternoon our master Clown Loach unexpectedly died. We found him
lying in death in the middle of the tank, with his partner of fifteen
years beside him quietly keeping vigil. After the body was removed,
the remaining Loach immediately hid himself and hasn't been seen since.
It's the end of an glorious era for our tank community, the end of the
partnership of these two fine creatures, the end for our original fish,
our beloved fish, and a time for deep sadness.