The water had a silken, peaty feel to it. The cold was shocking at first. The wooden seat of the bench damp on my behind. Once settled though, I felt a deep serenity. My feet were floating, and gently rocked by lapping ripples. With the breeze cool on my face, it felt a lot like swimming. Both shoes looked velvety underwater, and were beaded with air bubbles. It should have felt very unpleasant having a warm top and chilled legs, but it really wasn’t. I could have sat there all day.
I’m glad I didn’t linger though. It was one of those times made special because it was momentary. An unusual thing to do. A strange mix of sensations and temperatures. A little melancholy perhaps, too. Within a few weeks the whole bench could have rotted away, and sunk in to the bank. Yet I sat on it. Thought on it. Even if only briefly.
© Tom Tide 2017