Saturday, September 13, 2014


"Shiffies," my baby granddaughter shouts, over the din of departure. "Shiffies food," she adds, by way of clarifying.
Children younger than two are sort of like foreign films. They need subtitles.
At least some of the time.
My little granddaughter may say shiffie, but she means fishie.
Being lifted up to gaze down into the deep, dark water barrel at the fish is something she loves to do.
And feeding them is even better.
A little handful of food tossed on the water's surface and up they zoom like torpedoes.
Up to the surface with eyes bulging in greed, mouths open.
Gunk, smack. Gunk, splash.
Its sort of like the Orca show at the aquarium but in miniature.
Nature on stage.
And the front row is still the best place to be.

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