When I was a lonely, messed-up child, I found some salvation in my fish. I had four or five tanks (I stole money to pay for them), then  started to breed them and sell the babies. My bedroom was ringed with bubbling, humming fish tanks. My parents never set foot in there, is was my moat, hideaway, safe space.

When a thermostat exploded and all of my linked tanks blew up (my dog Sam ate most of the fish off of the floor) I gave up fish until just about six months ago, and I bought a tank for Maria.

She loved it, especially the snails and the three simple, inexpensive fish we finally bought. We went quickly from a 10 gallon tank to a 29 gallon tank. Three fish and seven snails, the new baby named Junior, our star snail named Socrates.

We love watching the snails even more than the fish, they are remarkable creatures. We have names for all of them, we have no names for the fish.

I’ve been trying for months to figure out how to photograph this fish, and I’ve been stumped. Today I realized there is powerful sunlight streaming through the window and into the tank around 3 p.m this time of year, just before it goes dark.

This and my 100 mm macro lens gave me a way in, I sat by the tank and waited for the orange fish – that is what we call her – to come into the sunlight. She did, right on cue.

The tank is a colorful and mystical place, I hope to be able to capture it in the coming weeks and months.