It is my third swim for the season and I am still sticking (somewhat) to the shoreline. Am I still conditioning? Perhaps it is the publicity that swimming at Walden is receiving about the future of open water use? …generated I am sure by the death of a swimmer last fall. Discussions to minimize the conflicts between DCR regulations and policies and maximize the safety of pond users. My concern that this activity which I use as a retreat has now somehow become more visible. And controversial.
In any case, I intend to swim to the point as I have the last two swims, but as I rarely watch I don’t notice that I venture more and more away from the Sandy Point, and more toward the point off Ice Fort Cove, more toward the center of the pond.
So why not. After all, I’m feeling good.
It is not until my return journey that I start to feel the immense relief of being in the pond. And, of course, it I because I am in the middle. I never did swim back toward the shore, but turned and headed straight back across the longest access. Just as I did in my final swim last year.
Feeling the freedom.
The wind had picked up again once I was out of the shelter of the cove, so the water around me bounced and bobbed, tossing me back and forth. It is only faith that makes me know I am moving forward, a tiny ant on top of this mammoth body of fluid earth. It is faith, and the epiphany that I am alive and living the only way I can. Instead of fighting against it, allowing myself to be taken with it while a inch my way back home.
Very soon I became fascinated by the pink threads the sun was weaving on the water to both sides of me. Gold, silver perhaps. But never pink light dancing under my arm, arcing the sky overhead.
…watching the world through different eyes.