smothered by unrelenting blather at a party last night, i fled to the hosts' koi pond in their backyard. the pond, i first thought, lacked charm as beside it sat prettily the canary and indigo fisher price play house of the couple's daughter.
as the japanese carps sensed me shuffling by the pond's bank, they surfaced. the once sorry green pond, now a whirlpool of white, red, and yellow gold.
"like tapestry weaving itself," L said to me as soon as he found me considering the kois. then i thought, beauty is so unconscious of its craft, and so self-sustaining.
i promised L i'd be right back as soon as i was done with my now watered down drink. the carps, unmoved by my fawning, went on with their wet dance.
