In the twilight of my years I often remember a simpler time when life moved slower with peace 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 swimmer. From a short distance from the path I was on this gentle figure whose slender grace poised a most breathtaking sight. The beauty of her figure matched the ease of her tempo for 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 to a completely different reality.
This beautiful slow swimmer whose beauty and grace for many a morning we caught each others eye as she gently swam on. Soon we became familiar sights, me on the path, she swimming on by, for now she even stopped and waved, tempting me to join on in. As I stood speechless as she swam by I could tell she wanted me to join her, and the next morning I did. I will never forget that summer. That 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 rest 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 could resume our friendship and our morning swim. All through that winter I was hoping for more. When the next summer finally came I’d run down to the lake and jumped on in for at half past ten, hoping to see my slow swimmer once again. I stood there waiting, the water still cool. I kept looking but she didn’t come. A sadness came over me as the clouds came rolling in. I started to swim along the shore again but, this time it was different the loneliness set in. I thought to myself afterwards maybe it was meant to be a once in a lifetime encounter with my mermaid of the lake.
It has been over 50 years since those wondrous days and a long time since I was back down by 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 far 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’t help thinking what could 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 come back. A kaleidoscope of images flashes now and again. 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’d swim again. Of all the times where I yearned for romance that mermaid by the lake the friendship we’d shared made her memory so sweet and dear.
Now, that another summer fast approaches though I am a thousand miles from that lake I still partake of a morning swim at a half past ten where the water is more suited to my aging frame. I still think of the time of that one summer where the gentle clear cool waters invited us to have such sweet tender moments that bring back such fond memories of the times I cherish where my slow swimmer, the mermaid of the lake and I glided through those cool clear waters.