I actually fell asleep in front of the aquarium yesterday. The result of a busy day, a bowl of chicken soup, warm air from the heater, and the hypnotic effect of watching fish.
I awoke with numb hands, tingling arms and a strange sense of disorientation. I had been dreaming. I was explaining something to someone, and feeling somewhat resentful that, whoever she was, she was in my space. I wanted her to dig her way out, but she would not go, insisting that I had to tidy up and plant a garden. When I awoke, and finally realised where I was, the first thing I felt was a profound sense of relief as I realised that I was alone, I did not share the house with anyone, and I was free to do, or not to do, anything I chose.
What do I make of that?
Reginald Kray was digging a hole in the shingle in the corner of the aquarium nearest to me. He would pull out a few pebbles, turn around and fit his tail into the hole, and then, seemingly deciding the hole was not quite right, he would turn and pull out more pebbles, examining each of them carefully with his pedipalps as he did. Finally he found he could not dig beyond the glass bottom of the tank, and gave up. He backed into the weeds, now reduced to around a third of what I had planted a while ago. (I am hoping that the remaining plants will survive, because they appear to be of varieties not considered palatable by yabbies). After a while of scraping at the shingle there, he went backwards into his usual hole which is a piece of aluminium extrusion under the shingle.
Ronald Kray looked on from his own hole without moving anything except his feelers. He is the inscrutible one of the two.
I guessed that the dream reference to digging was a result of Reginald’s activities.
The three species of fish, the shrimps and the yabbies all appear to be getting along together well. None seem to be interested in preying on the others, and all go about their business quietly fossicking and feeding though there is usually a bit of a frenzy when I throw food into the tank. The yabbies are definitely slowing down, possibly because the water temperature is dropping.
I now have a light over the aquarium, and it makes it considerably more attractive and interesting. The filters are doing their job very well indeed, keeping the water so clear it looks as if the fish are suspended in nothing. The aquarium is a glowing pellucid cube of light containing a fascinating microcosm. I could watch it for hours. There is something magical and other-worldly in the play of light through the pellucid water.
Pellucid is such a nice word.