Orange. Bright against the dark deep green they swim to. Like the slender legs of a ballerina, perfectly spaced, leaping mid air. Forming the long sides of a heart, joining somewhere, deep, at some point in time I do not know.
Perhaps it was my mind that took me from the fleeting image of the two magnificent fish to these thoughts as I swam, arm over, air gasp and blow, along the other side of the pond. I had run through the usual collection of thoughts I take from my day into the water, relief from two long days at the hospital, gratitude for the cool refreshing water to plunge into at the end of a long hot day, for my friends, for my daughter sitting up in her hospital bed crafting when I had left. Feeling a little better today.
My mind was a smorgasbord, threads weaving one life into the next, until only the fabric of swimming, arm over, air gasp and blow, right and left and right, remained.
Until my toes began to cramp.
It was indistinguishable from the waft of water into wave at first, and I spent a number of kicks fluttering my foot, trying to determine whether it had cramped or not. Always the point as if I was a dancer, I tried retracting my toes, kicking while pulling toe to shin, testing the muscle which had made its statement. My knee hurt. Not the junction of the tibia and the patella, but a faint indiscernible throb at the back of it. Ache, dull ache, until I saw the fish.
The fine delicate line of their path winding their way to the floor. Like embroidery on silk in a Japanese painting.