In the twilight of my years I often recall a simpler time when life moved diminished with serenity and grace. Many a day I often strolled along the shore path of the lake I called home for so many summers when I was young. There in the peace of the morning when the sun first began to shine it’s warmth upon to cool still waters I often notice this lone slow runner. From a brief distance from the road I was on this gentle figure whose slender grace poised a most breathtaking sight. The beauty of her figure matched the simplicity of her pace because of her rhythm was like gentle waltz. Her gentle sway as she swam was like the rolling waves that rolled on in. Her locomotion moved me into a very different reality.
This gorgeous slow swimmer whose beauty and grace for many a morning we caught each others eye as she drifted on. Soon we became familiar sights, me on the path, she swimming by, for now she even stopped and waved, enticing me to join . As I stood speechless as she swam by I could tell she wanted me to join her, and the next morning I did. I won’t ever forget that summer. This one summer where for four weeks every morn at half past ten we swam together, poetry in motion gliding through the gentle waves. Afterwards we’d break on a nearby pier and a friendship was forged, but nothing more.
When summer was over we said our good-byes. I was hoping that next summer we can resume our friendship and our morning swim. All through that winter I had been hoping for more. I stood there , the water cool. I kept looking but she did not come. I started to swim along the coast again however, this time it was different the loneliness set in. I thought to myself later maybe it was intended to be a once in a lifetime experience with my mermaid of the lake.
It’s been over 50 years since those wondrous days and a long time because I was back down from the lake. But, through all the years I still remember with great fondness the fun we shared. I did find out some years later that my slow swimmer had moved away and was never able to come back to the lake. But the memory of that one summer has stayed through all these years. I just can not help thinking what might have been if my slow simmer had come back and at half past ten we’d swim again.
As the years have flown by memories do return. The times of my life where moments of joy as well as sorrow fills my conscious thought. But, none so clear as that one summer where my mermaid by the lake held me captive every morn for at half past ten we would swim again. Of all of the instances where I yearned for love that mermaid by the lake the friendship we had shared made her memory so precious and sweet.
Now, that another summer fast approaches though I am a thousand miles from that lake I still partake of a morning swim in a half past ten in which the water is more suited to my aging frame. I still consider the time of that one summer where the gentle clear cool waters encouraged us to have such sweet tender moments that bring back such fond memories of those times I cherish where my slow swimmer, the mermaid of the lake and I glided through those cool clear waters.