A Little Carping

My walk Monday ended where the Central Canal 

empties into the White River. I stood for a long time,

watching a school of carp as they idled in a pool 

of sunlight at the river's bank. The fishes' slender, 

blue-gray bodies stood out against the yellow clay. 

The surface water sank to the bottom, carrying with it 

particles of soil, decomposed leaves, and other 

matter, pushing the clearer water to the top.

It's a good thing I took the opportunity to

get outside when I did because another front

bringing a heavy snowfall is working its way 

across the mid-western and eastern states.

Much of the population is suffering from an 

epidemic of seasonal affective disorder;

barely one month into the season, people are already 

thoroughly sick of the cold. You could charter

a fleet of Boeing C-130's to airlift everyone 

who wanted to go South for warmer weather.
It would be a mercy flight.