Striated Red Green Heckel Cross Discus

Jammed into the back of a European smart car clinging treacherously close to the mountain’s edge, the vineyards sprawled out below us like emerald hued velvet carpets. We gazed slack-jawed at the ruby red poppies nodding and swaying to the glissandos of the valley winds, contorting their bodies through the thickets of green like ballerinas on opening night. Now, as I watch the Striated Red Green Heckel Cross Discus pirouette before me, its red and green striations shimmering vibrantly as it sashays and circles, I am transported back to the warm summer days of the French wine country. “The first dance of the season always hits differently,” he said, and all these years later it still rings true.

The Discus moves as effortlessly as we existed, and shimmers as brightly as those languid days tasting wine, napping in fields and dancing under the stars. Its red stripes stopping me in my tracks like the poppies undulating in the wind. It’s bright green markings are as vibrant and jaw dropping as the acres of valley below. As it moves through the tank, I move through time, back to the splendor in the valley.

I never thought a solitary fish would inspire nostalgia to flower within me. To remind me of the luscious simplicity of my youth. Having this in my tank is a love letter to the past, and one I am always keen on reading.