When fish glance up, they see the bottoms of leaves, insects touching the river’s back, white ripples where water hits obstacles that splits its flow.  In this underground observation area, us desert rats gawk at sharks, rays and groupers,cruising. They brush against their tank’s glass wall and pass us like race cars at the Indy 500.  Fish move aerodynamic, wasting no energy. Watching them cruising, I wish I had their gracefulness. Their world has no doors, no walls, and no friction. Fish are made for quick turns, rapid acceleration, gorgeous movement. Men are made for plodding and, as Alex the architect points out,often, plotting. When I look up at the stars at night, I don’t see much difference between myself and a fish. What we can see above us only goes so far.  
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