Little Fish in a Big Pond

I used to keep tropical fish as a boy growing up on LI.  At the zenith of my hobby, I had 4 separate 10 gallon tanks -- and actually successfully bred some guppies and mollies...At night, I'd pull up a chair in front of the tanks, and watch the fish swim around, as I pondered deep thoughts, like whether the Mets would ever win another Series...

The hobby faded, and I gave away the tanks and equipment, but I always enjoyed watching fish -- I tend to visit an aquarium in each city I visit.

Well, fate, and falling in love with a house I named Villa Wifey, brought me back to my hobby, but in a very easy way.  The house has a huge fish pond in the front -- actually a sinkhole that the original builder in the 50s quarried out of the limestone rock, covered by a stone bridge.  Long time neighbors still call our house "the one with the moat," as the original house was built right up to the pond, and the front entrance was through a gate, over the stone bridge, and to the front door.

Richard and Jennifer, who bought that first house after Hurricane Andrew and demolished it, decided to build to the rear of the property, keeping the pond and bridge for show.  The put a fence around it, and it has a waterfall, and it's really a striking feature.  When we moved in, about 15 nice sized koi and terrapins were happily swimming around.  Jennifer told me she rarely fed them -- they survived well on the bugs and plants in the pond, but when she did, they swam over -- like pets.

My hobby was renewed.  I found a place called Angel's Hatchery, in the Redland, and bought colorful cichlids to keep company with the koi.  I began spending lots of time at the pond, which really required no real work -- it was its own ecosystem.  Terrapins would come and go, and we'd spot babies swimming around.

There was a surface aerator on a timer.  Richard had told me that the fish would die if the aerator was off for more than a week.  I learned he was correct in '04, when Hurricane Wilma knocked out our power for two weeks.  One week in, the large koi became sushi for the raccoons and foxes.  I'd see the poor things floating on the surface, and the next day they'd be gone.

I repopulated the pond with fish from Angel's, as well as a closer fish farm called Neighborhood Fish -- off the Turnpike and Bird Road.  The fish and terrapins were happy, and some plecos (algae eaters) had grown to comically large size - some were easily 18 inches long.

Alas, Irma came, and again knocked out the power.  We fled to Atlanta, and then various Miami hotels, and sure enough, I returned to the sad sight of dead koi.  The smaller cichlids were alive, as were the plecos, and the terrapins seemed very well fed.

The pond was a mess -- filled with fallen trees.  Our gardener Sara had her crew remove some of the debris, but needed another day to complete the job.  Last week, the pond was back.

So yesterday I made my trip to Neighborhood Fish Farm, and bought 10 new plecos, 12 small koi, and 12 electric blue colored cichlids.  They're all small, but will grow and then become visible.

I spent my first meditation time by the pond in a long while, and was rewarded.  There's a firethorn tree, which I was told was a hummingbird attractor.  Sure enough, a friendly little guy came and sat on the branch next to me, before flying off.  Beautifully colored yellow finches were there, too.

I told Mike about the pond happenings, and he noted that 13 years wasn't a bad run for a koi's life -- though in Japan, some live to 100.

The new ones ought to enjoy being little fish in a big pond.

Speaking of Jennifer and Richard, the ones who built our beautiful house, years have now passed since their tragedy -- a depressed Jennifer killed her two teens up in West Palm, and then herself.

I say a prayer for Richard when I'm at the pond.  The fish keep swimming by, unconcerned with human tragedy.