Small gold and yellow fish, hiding from the blue heron, lay like coins on the bottom of the pond.  The larger koi, Tigerlily and Li Po, are indifferent to his morning raids and swim at their leisure through the few leaves dropping onto the surface.

Swimming above the bottom wash of gold and through the clouds and trees reflected on this truest of living mirrors they have no need to ask the fairy tale question of who is fairest.  Tigerlily knows nothing of tales of aging queens and poisoned apples.   All the same, sometimes I suspect that she knows she's beautiful. Something in the way she lifts and turns her head as though holding court for a brief moment before she swims away.  Something in the way she moves?