Pleasingly fresh from the ocean. Sadly Picasso-like in death.

These fish, destined for the breakfast table, are fresh and their scales are beautifully, and now wastefully, colourful; lime green, electric blue, sunshine yellow, shiny charcoal grey, and the silver of burnished pewter. They nestle in a water-filled hollow in the sand.

For me it's novel, but not rare in Thailand, to see fishermen in action on the beach in the mornings; and their catch goes from the ocean to  plate, a few yards from the ocean's edge, with very little delay.

My lifestyle has, for a very long time, made home cooked or even fresh, as opposed to packaged, food, a rare event. Almost an event for which I was barely prepared in my Australian home; the number of utensils required to open and consume a microwavable dinner are very few! And in Thailand, where to eat out is always cheaper than eating in, my dining table is to be found in numerous places.

So you can imagine, I'm not a fisherman, hunter, or even a vegetable gardner; nor am I much of a cook - gourmet or otherwise.

Fishing techniques in Thailand have changed very little over years - centuries - and typically they involve a net, circular or long and shallow; these nets are cast or placed and then gathered-in trapping mostly fairly small fish.

I suppose this Thailand beach scene could be typical of any time in the last several hundred years.

 

 

The man casts the net and the woman has a basket in which the catch is kept - she draws it through the water periodically to, I imagine, keep the fish fresh. 

Today I'm meditating on the satisfaction that must come from taking just enough from the ocean for your breakfast. Economical. Sustainable. Perhaps even spiritual. And then conversely I meditate on how hard it must be to search for your next meal, rain or shine. 

 

In our western world large numbers of people now demand sustainable lifestyles, often of others rather than themselves, and while I applaud their zeal I wonder, who is going to give up what they have come to expect as a lifestyle right? Who is going to be prepared to go hungry when the fish are not biting. And who among us will give up the 4WD, or the family saloon? And who among us will use electricity only when the sun is shining?

I'm meditating on the human state-of-mind that must accompany a commitment to sustainability; it's not just about giving up, it's about every one of us doing things differently.

 

Our state-of-mind must be that fishing is an art. And that fish should be art.

 

It's going to be quite a change for most of us.