Mandi Lurkins
October 26, 2010
ENG-105 (12)
Ms. Duncan

Do Fish Ever Sleep?

Brilliant shades of blue, green, yellow, orange and red flashed all around me as I peered into a view of life as we know it. It was as if a box of crayons had exploded, with wonderful accuracy, all around the room creating a kaleidoscope effect on my eyes. This fantasy land gave me the chance to stare face to face at nature’s natural rawness; its awe-inspiring beauty. It was nothing but a bountiful blossom of blooming colors that attracted my eye in more ways than one. I had a strange feeling of being a native in this far distant land with all elements coming forth; earth, air, some artificial fire, and most abundantly water. I was, after all, at the Rainforest Café so this scene only seems fitting. Eating at the Rainforest Café is always a great adventure, but on this particular Sunday it proved to be an eye opener for me. As the lovely hostess sat my family down at our table I began to take in my surroundings more so than ever before. I became lost in the world of tropical plants and animals. To my left was a family of gorillas looking mighty fierce and highly mischievous, especially the youngster swinging about on a vine. Straight ahead of me was a baby grey, and his large tusked mother flapping their ears and trunks about. Finally to my right was the piece that struck me with the most fascination. Perhaps it had to do with the contents inside that were actually real rather than synthetic. Nonetheless, I caught myself staring the entire duration of our meal at this wonderfully simple, yet mysteriously intricate aquarium full of tropical fish. It was at this point in my mind that the famous rhyme came into mind, “One fish, two fish. Red fish, blue fish.” The tank was filled with such a diverse mixture of fish, just like the book of Seuss, that made the still water move with so many colors, patterns, and shapes that it was hard to take it all in. There was a big white and black polka dot fish, a school of yellow finned silver fish, a very energetic blue missile, as I like to call him, a floating rainbow and little red. While watching these fish just live their normal day to day life swimming about in the good sized aquarium, that seemed almost a bit too cramped, I began to match personalities of people I know with corresponding scaled mates. It became more than just another aquarium for onlookers to gawk at, it was a representation of everyday life that occurs outside that tank; the life that I walk around in every day. The way each fish swam around the tank resembled the way people, including myself, travel through this world. Some seemed to wonder aimlessly, weaving in and out of the monochromatic coral that was there only to provide obstacles in the path of each fishes endeavor. The blandness of the coral made each fish stand out in the crisp blue water, drawing focus and attention to each individual. Life is often focused on the image of an individual rather than the natural beauty that is surrounding us all. The big white polka dot guy looked like the outcast loner who never fit in with the rest, a poor lost soul just trying to make it through each day. The school of yellow finned silvers kept to themselves in a corner like an army of soldiers just protecting their space. The blue missile kept darting in and out of every amount of space possible, sometimes getting in the way of the “army” being nothing but a comical nuisance while the floating rainbow flaunted itself in the grandest way possible wanting to be noticed like she was the Paris Hilton of the aquarium, therefore making her much better than the rest. Then there was little red, who just sat upside down on the coral as if he needed a little break from it all; a fish that needed his own space to breathe. I like to think the trickle of the filter system put was putting him to sleep. That got me thinking… do fish ever sleep? Perhaps I had gone about this observation all wrong. What if the trickle of the filter I found to be relaxing was actually just as annoying to the fish as a train blaring its way through town at one o’clock in the morning is to me. These fish were confined in a tank that kept them from experiencing the chaos that the “Rainforest” brings. The three inch thick Plexiglas allowed the fish to not be bothered by the madness and continue going through their systematically structured lives of endlessly swimming to and fro. They were like little slimy people walking through the same mundane schedule day after day who never stopped to smell the roses; like a person I know too well or perhaps maybe still not quite enough, me. It stung me like a jellyfish to think I go through my days following the same pattern, tracing the same steps I took the day before, and all the while I never once stopped to take in what I may be passing. Throughout life we all find ourselves taking things for granted and push ourselves way past the point of exhaustion. There is so much that life has to offer that many people never stop twice to think about the simple joys they may be missing out on. Since the day I ate at the Rainforest Café I let myself become less of the busybody I used to be and more like little red. I find time to let myself be free and relaxed. I let myself get away from it all; the chaos, the other “fish” swimming about, and the blandness. Though I may still wonder around this tank called life, I am most definitely not lost. I am discovering me and the wonderful lessons that come from each and every eye opening experience. One of the best lessons came from the day I got to eat with my family; never be afraid to swim against the current.