I slog through the icy snow on showshoes today to take a close look at my little fishpond. "Close" is a relative term since i am essentially standing on top of the backs of the metal lawn chairs that are completely covered by snow except for the top inch.
I poke a shovel through the snow and in the 3-foot deep pond. Fortunately it goes right into the water. 7 goldfish and 5 frogs are hibernating in the icy water to the hum of a circulating pump, which i turn on for an hour a day just to create this hole in the ice.
What i notice is that the water has no smell. If it's been iced over too long, the fish use up all the oxygen in the water, conditions become anaerobic, and all the fish and frogs die. Pee-yew.
So far this winter, so good.
The breath may not seem that interesting, but imagine if you ran out of air. Breathing could become very interesting, very fast.
The breath is such a handy meditation object; it's always available, no matter where you are. It might be worth a bit of curiosity and interest to observe how the breath actually functions.
Today i'm glad the fish and i are both still breathing.