Finally. I was there on the first day of the season last year, but this time didn't make it until the water, blue and beautiful of course, had reached a positively welcoming nineteen degrees. Leaves on the bottom. Diving in and making patterns. Lengths so long you lose count and don't care anyway, because you're just there to think, and feel, and not, for once, to compete. Patrick came too. We read books poolside afterwards. We're going back today.
You look at the water and you think of Hopkins. It's unavoidable.
Glory be to God for dappled things.