When the fish are born they appear as millions on the shoreline, as far as the eye can see. In the golden shallows they play with the reflections, learning how to blend in. This is how thoughts work. They seem real, but it depends on how I look at them, against what background, with my mind or my heart. They are black, luminous blue, electric, zebra-striped. They move as one body, in lateral lines or in spheres. I walk through them, sending vibrations through the water. I can sense them, but not touch them. I swim out and imagine how they disperse like rays of light. I think of how each little fleck can become a big fish, how it will travel out and populate the lake. Some will be eaten and caught on hooks, some will descend into the shadowy depths, only to surface from time to time. A ring on the smooth surface, a sign of life from below.