In keeping with this week’s “when I’m not writing” theme, I’m taking you … under the sea. A little sea. (Sea minor?) This one, to be exact:
As I mentioned last week, I have a sixty gallon marine aquarium just to the right of my writing desk and I spend far more time watching (and photographing, and tweeting about) it than I’ll admit. Let’s just say “it’s a lot” and leave it at that. In addition to a variety of colorful corals
(believe it or not, they’re animals, not plants)
the tank is home to a number of
spoiled lovely pets. The stars, of course, are Cygnus, Ceti, and Ghillie, the seahorses:
Thing 1, the banded pipefish, entertains with her constant hunting.
In an unusual cross-species friendship, Emo the clownfish hangs out with Ghillie the Seahorse (and that’s Wilson the blue tuxedo urchin sneaking into the frame on the lower right).
And yes, the clownfish really is named “Emo.” This is what happens when your teenage son is allowed to name your pets.
Flappy the green-spotted mandarin provides a constant source of movement and color. Even if he can’t tell his own reflection from another fish.
And finally, last but certainly NOT least, we have Max the watchman goby. Or more properly, Emperor Maximus Angryfish I, who disapproves of any and all shenanigans.
The tank also has a full complement of blue-legged hermits, cleaner shrimp and six different species of aquatic snails, but more on those another day. I think you’ve pretty much got the idea – when I’m not writing, I’ve got my nose to the glass or my hands in the water, playing with the fish.
Latest posts by Susan Spann (see all)
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