Every evening after work I leave the glittering beacon of corporate triumph (it's as ugly as sin and it isn't waterproof but what the hell) and trot down to Circular Quay railway station to complete the journey from the ugly crumbling edifice I work in to the ugly crumbling edifice I live in. Circular Quay railway station is a hideous lump of concrete and steel looming belligerently over what should be Sydney's incredibly beautiful gateway to the world. If you want a description of what Circular Quay railway station looks like try to imagine the industrial revolution vomiting in your front yard.
As you might gather from the above I'm not particularly fond of Circular Quay station. In fact I would happily tear it down if it was for the rather crucial role it plays in my transit between work space and home space. The design of the station could be considered cutting edge if by that you mean that the designer wanted to stab you.
In order to gird myself for passing through station's gates (taking care to avoid the three headed dog on the way in) I spend a few minutes at Circular Quay itself. Here I look for fish. The water at Circular Quay varies in colour between murky green and a sort of greenish murk. There is a translucent, and none too healthy, sheen and riding proudly on the surface like so many battleships at anchor are drink containers, lunch wrappers and pretty much anything buoyant enough to float that isn't digestible enough for a seagull to eat.
You may think that looking for fish in Circular Quay is somewhat futile but permit me to assure you that they are there, whatever the quality of the water. I know this because one evening I was walking along Circular Quay when someone threw what was either a large bun or half a loaf of bread into the water. In a second the water resembled the penultimate scene in a piranha movie. The water literally boiled and the bread was ripped into shreds and, presumably, devoured within seconds.
Thus encouraged I spend a few minutes each day looking for fish by the simple expedient of looking at water and seeing if I can discern fish like shapes within it. This got a lot easier once I learned to wear my sunglasses while doing so. The afternoon glare off the water's surface was seriously hampering my view. Now I can look into the murky depths or at least the murky shallows at Circular Quay in search of all things piscine. Part of the problem turned out to be that many of the fish don't actually look like fish. I saw something that looked like a partially inflated balloon swimming around the water one day and it took a fair bit of staring before I convinced myself it was a fish and not a partially inflated balloon caught in an eddy.
Then there was the zombie fish. Imagine a dead fish, imagine it has been left to rot for several days and is now sickly white where it isn't dirty brown with various bits falling off it. Now drop it back into the water. There is at least one fish at Circular Quay that looks exactly like that. At first I thought it was vaguely fish shaped rubbish. Eventually I realised it was a vaguely fish shaped fish and despite appearances it was very much alive.
The babies are cute though. Possibly its spawning season because on two occasions in the last week I have seen schools of tiny immature fish scooting through the water. Indeed they were so tiny that it might be better to describe them as kindergartens of fish. Hopefully they wont grow up to look like deflated balloons or fish corpses (although I guess they will eventually).
I don't have success every day. Frequently all I see are jellyfish, seagulls and rubbish. And seaweed of course, ferry pylons are absolute heaven for seaweed apparently. The day before yesterday, however, was crowned in triumph. I saw a fish! Not a deflated balloon fish or a decaying zombie fish or even a tiny potential fish but an actual genuine, fish shaped fish. It looked exactly what a fish is supposed to look like and was a decent size into the bargain. If you had caught it you would definitely be putting that on your mantelpiece (or into a casserole or something). I was so surprised I actually forced myself to look for it again to convince myself my eyes weren't playing tricks. After the third sighting I decided it was official. There is at least one stereotypically appropriate fish in Circular Quay. Possibly it was lost.
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