Apr 26, 2023

When it Rains, do I remember the Rainbow?

Several years ago, in preparation for the spring festival, the carp I'd become friends with were removed to clean the pond. I thought they'd be returned after the water was cleaned, but they weren't.

Most people might say, "They're just fish. Get over it."

Families filled the park on spring break; food was vended; there was traditional garb; and music and aromas filled the air...but I remember feeling lonely because the crystal pond looked empty without carp, couldn't feel festive no matter how hard I tried. Even the fountain seemed to try to cheer me up by teaming up with the sunlight and forming a rainbow, and I tried to smile then.

Things worked backwards--the rain came afterwards, not before, the rainbow.

And 27 carp swam up the narrow creek from Deeper Pond, on the other side of the park, to the shallower Duck Pond, where I thought I'd never see a carp again. Dent, the carp in today's picture, was one of those 27 carp. It's a long story of how Dent and several other carp were caught and taken back to Deeper Pond, where she now swims.

I wonder if Dent remembers, whenever it rains, the time she came to Duck Pond, or if she's forgotten it already. Carp have a much shorter memory span than humans. But we don't have much of an excuse. I know I tend to think about my problems all the time but forget about the blessings. And I'm not a carp.