I’ve probably mentioned before that one of the things I like about where I live now is the fact that once a week during the summer I can flood irrigate my yard. Today was watering day.
Today while I irrigated, I decided that I’d try to dictate and get some words done. Fortunately, most of the neighbors were at work and so didn’t see me out there talking to myself while moving the big hose around the yard. If someone did notice, well, no one stared. (Honestly, no one cares. It is amazing what you can do once you realize that “no one cares” is a big truth in the world — very freeing. Okay, so they might stare for a moment, but they will go on with their own life in a moment and forget all about you by evening.)
I didn’t get as many words done as I would have liked, but I still managed to get something done in time that would’ve otherwise been me sitting there watching the water. And it was going slowly today. All this summer we’ve had amazing water pressure. Usually by the time I get back from closing the gate at the end of the block, air has escaped the pipe, blowing the hose up like a balloon and water is already streaming out. Today, I had a bit of a wait. Then, because the flow wasn’t like a firehose, I got to take my time, sit back, enjoy the luscious temperatures, and dictate. Love it when a plan comes together.
But when I was done, gate open and water no longer coming into the hose, I was in the process of draining the remaining water and rolling it up when I saw something strange. Something silvery gold came flipping out of the hose.
It was a young carp.
Good thing the cats were inside. They aren’t big fans of irrigation day. Imagine that.
The carp certainly had no idea how lucky he was that I saw him slip out of the hose.
The puddle he landed in was only about half the width of his little body. Well, that wasn’t going to do him any good. So I picked up up and tossed him into a bigger puddle. It still wasn’t big enough for him to swim in, but at least the water covered his gills. Then I went back down and opened the pipe where my hose fits on, came back to the yard and scooped the poor little fish up in my hands, and returned him to the pipe.
I did really well until sticking my hand in the PVC pipe. That’s when I felt something touch my hand.
Yeah, the bad thing about having a good imagination is that it works against you sometimes. I dropped the carp and withdrew my hand fast. I then realized that what had touched me was only leaves and debris floating in the irrigation pipe, You know, there are more than just fish in there. So I reached back in and flicked (quickly!) all that debris away that went around the bend in the pipe. I certainly hope the carp had made it back down to the flowing water. There’s no way for me to check for certain, but at least I did my best to return him from whence he came.
With that being the second carp I’ve saved, I’m certain my spirit name is “She who needlessly saves carp.”
I guess we all have to have something. (grin)