Fish in the Fire

I've commented here once or twice before how I seem to have inherited my late father's uncanny ability to 'see' things that aren't really there in pictures, landscapes etc.

Today, looking into a bonfire I had lit in the garden, I saw a fish - some kind of pike, perhaps - amidst the flames; and was reminded too of one of my father's favourite poems, Armies in the Fire by Robert Louis Stevenson.