All men are equal before fish – Herbert Hoover

I spent yesterday afternoon on the rocks. Literally. There’s a small, pebbly, black-sanded beach near me where I like to go on a sunny weekend afternoon. Four harpoon fishermen snorkelled about just offshore, while fish nibbled on the algae covering the rocks at the edge of the beach. Every time the waves came in and went out again I could see their little tails flipped up into the air, wiggling and jiggling like those red plastic fortune tellers that you used to get as a child. The ones that you put on the palm of your hand which then curled up or barrelled over and told you your character or how you were feeling that day or whatever. Due to having naturally cold hands they usually used to tell me that I was near to death. The real fish, however, told me that I was content on the beach, watching the sun sinking lower in the sky as they fed. As some wise man no doubt once said: some days, all you need is fish.

Image by Michael M Way on Flickr