Nature Connection: Something Fishy

Lately, I’ve been thinking about fish. Fish have been around a lot longer than humans, yet we tend to think of them more often as a food source than anything else. To be fair, fish as food have been keeping humans alive all through time and all over the world. Even today fish are the main staple in many diets in many cultures.

Fish have also made their way into our language and conversations. We play a card game called “Go Fish!” and when we are looking for answers it may be said we are fishing. If something seems a little suspect or off, we may say that it is fishy. Both fish and guests smell after three days, say some, and if fishes were wishes, we’d all cast nets, say others.

Fish have captured our imaginations, most likely because their whole way of life seems so foreign to us. They breathe with gills, not lungs, extracting oxygen from the water instead of air. They sleep with one eye open, in some cases, and are known for hanging out with many of their finny friends in groups called schools. There are big fish and little fish, long fish and short fish. They come in all sorts of colors and shapes. Some are predators and some are prey. Some are both, depending on the situation.

There are those who spend their lifetime studying fish. Some of those hunt fish for food or sport. Others want to know more about their unique biological features and habits. Many of us, however, are simply casual observers that caught minnows in nets when we were kids and then ate tuna sandwiches for lunch.

For me, there’s an element of the mysterious, even the mystical, about fish. They live their whole lives underwater. To see them in their natural element we must enter the water, using snorkels or air tanks to help us access their watery habitats. Others use fishing poles or nets, but these pull the fish out of the water. To be fair, those who fish, especially those who fish for a living, are quite knowledgeable about their prey. Often scientists work closely with fishermen and women, and together they share pertinent facts as well as many fish stories. All of this adds to our overall knowledge of life under the sea.

I remember waiting for Jacques Cousteau specials to come on TV when I was a child and teenager. The sea was such an amazing, mostly unknown place, and he made it more accessible and even inviting. Even though I lived on Cape Cod, the sea was mostly incomprehensible to me at that time, but he taught us to not be afraid and to go explore.

Most of my early years in nature were spent exploring the woods, the wrack line at the beach, and the edges of ponds. We caught minnows, both freshwater and saltwater kinds, but we rarely knew they had actual names. It was years before I knew names like stickleback, silversides, mummichog or killifish. I learned recently that the word minnow refers to a specific small fish in Europe, but here in the U.S. we use it generically for all small fish. 

Like many children, I visited public aquariums and marveled at the variety of fish I saw there. The adaptations of fish all over the world seemed almost endless. There were fish that changed colors, fish that wore their own so-called fishing traps, fish that hid in the sand and fish that gobbled up other fish. Some were goofy looking while others appeared sinister. My mother took us often to Woods Hole to see the fish in the aquarium there, something I did later with my own children and grandchildren. The aquarium in Boston is larger, of course, but there’s something lovely and personal about the smaller aquarium, which is still there and still free.

Recently I was at the Wellfleet Bay Wildlife Sanctuary on a very cold day. My husband and I were getting ready for a long walk but decided to wander around indoors looking at the exhibits before we donned all our winter apparel and braved the elements. There were several big tanks filled with local saltwater fish, crabs and snails and a few freshwater ones with turtles and more kinds of fish.

The tanks were at eye level, so we were standing there looking at fish which were looking right back at us. I suspect that most of the watchers were hoping for a handout since aquarium fish learn quickly where their next meal may come from, but maybe they were as curious about us as we were about them.

There was a small group of puffer fish, a fair number of small sea robins, an almost iridescent lumpfish and a lot of mummichogs and killifish. For a few minutes I was caught up in the wonder of undersea life. It’s so different from our own on-land existence, and yet here we all were, coexisting on a planet tucked into a huge universe. Wow! How amazing was that?

The earth is made up of so many unique and different places, and each has their own special population of creatures and plants. As humans, perhaps we need to take a moment to truly contemplate and accept this. None of us stands alone. We are all interconnected, whether we are a beetle, a worm, a cactus, a chickadee, a squirrel, a lion, a whale, or a fish. 

Imagine, if you will, a world where all of us lived in peace with each other. A little fish told me it just might be possible. Let’s try it.