There were fish everywhere. One minute the water was calm, reflecting the last rays of sunlight. The next minute the water erupted in a cacophony of glistening silver bodies leaping in the air, searching for freedom. The young men in the water, drawing the net together, grinned as the fish leaped past their faces.

When they’d formed a small circle at the edge of the pond with the net full of fish between them, they began to cull the fish. Only the biggest were good enough for the basket. The smaller ones were allowed to leap to the safety of the pond beyond the net.
Sometimes our ideas are like those little fish – not ready to be caught yet. Sometimes we have to be content to let them slip through our fingers. We’ll catch them the next time we visit the pond, when they’ve had a chance to grow.

I’m not always good at letting them slip away.

Photos taken in Bangladesh, March 2008.

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