Swimming

Going swimming was like entering another world, where silence reigned supreme and you could hear nothing but the sound of bubbles as they rush past your ear. Silvery dapples on the pool bottom, the sunlight refracted by the undulating waves on the surface. The water was gentle and cool. There was warmth in the white sunlight. The expanse of water seemed to go on, with no end of the crests of water. On the edges, other swimmers dipped their feet in, getting ready to enjoy a swim.

The water rushed by you as you first dove into the water; you lose yourself in the silver bubbles until you break through and the water is clear and crisp in your eyes. There were moments when I forget to breathe, feeling so at peace underneath the water; but sooner or later the need for air brought me back up, done grudgingly, like the tug from reality away from a surreal fantasy. The water was a halcyon state of mind only achieved by giving up breath.

On I went, deeper into the murky waters, further into the crushing depths, silence pounding upon the still world. Bubbles, bubbles, millions of bubbles, tiny, large, ivory spheres; like sparkling snowflakes, and at their wake, glided the swimmer, like the goddess scattering dewdrops that float to the heavens. It made one feel very serene, very tranquil.