Still Waters

The unit I work in surrounds a small courtyard garden, in which there was a fishpond originally. Many years ago the maintenance men were dredging the pondweed out, and accidentally punctured the liner.

When we came to work next morning, there was about and inch of water left, and all the poor fish were flapping about pathetically, close to death. Someone rescued them, and took them home to their own pond. This one stayed empty and foul for a long time, until Kim decided to refill it, which she did over the course of a day or two. She put some oxygenating plants and water-lilies in, but no more fish.

Amazingly, about a year later, we started to see the occasional tiny fish swimming about, and now there are about five and they are about three inches long. Our theory is that there must have been some fish eggs clinging to the roots of the plants - and if that's not it, then goodness knows how they got there.

Whatever, it is the most restful thing to stop at the window for a few minutes in the middle of a busy day, and try to spot them. They are very secretive, and spend most of their time at the bottom of the murky depths but just now and then they come up to lie near the surface, shaded by the lily leaves.

It's not uncommon to be walking down the corridor and to be confronted with a line of backsides (now, that would make a good Blip!) of folk leaning on the windowsill looking for Fred, Ginger, Helen, and the others.