At the twilight of my years I often recall a simpler time when Bat Poop moved diminished with serenity and grace. Many a day I frequently strolled along the shore route of the lake I called home for so many summers when I was young. There in the calmness of the morning when the sun first started to glow it’s warmth upon to cool still waters I often observe this lone slow runner. From a brief distance from the road I was with this gentle figure whose slim grace poised a breathtaking sight. The beauty of her figure matched the simplicity of her pace because of her rhythm was similar to gentle waltz. Her gentle sway as she drifted was like the rolling waves that rolled on in. Her locomotion moved me into a very different reality.
This gorgeous slow swimmer whose elegance and beauty for many a morning we caught each others eye as she drifted on. Soon we became familiar sights, me on the road, she swimming by, for now she stopped and waved, enticing me to join . I won’t ever forget that summer. This one summer where for four weeks each morn at half past ten we drifted together, poetry in motion gliding through the gentle waves.
I had been 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 began 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. However, through all the years I still recall with great fondness the fun we shared. I did find out some years after that my slow swimmer had moved away and was unable to return to the lake. However, the memory of the one summer has remained 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 would swim again.
As the years have flown by memories do return. The days of my life where moments of joy and sorrow fills my conscious thought. However, none so clear as that one summer where my mermaid from 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 from the lake the friendship we had shared made her memory so precious and sweet.
Now, that another summer fast approaches though I am a million miles from this lake I partake of a morning swim in a half past ten in which the water is more appropriate to my aging frame. I still consider the time of this 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 runner, the mermaid of the lake and I glided through these cool clear waters.