In the 40s this morning, my ideal temperature for swimming. The parking lot was deserted, and so was the pool, and as I got to the bottom of the ramp into the water—hip deep, or thereabouts—something touched my ankle. I made a noise, a sort of hoot of alarm, and then said in the same register, in what might have sounded like a bad Julia Child impression, “Something touched my leg!” A fish or a turtle, I decided; a benign presence. The ghost of Julia Child herself. I was glad nobody heard me hoot, but moments later somebody passed me in the pool. Ah, well. It wasn’t unlike the hoots most fools make when they jump into the water and find it cold.
I won’t get too many more swims in the 40s, if any. I’m traveling this week, and pretty soon the pool will close for its annual two-week break. After that, my usual entrance to the pool will be closed as they refurbish the changing areas. I don’t know how I feel about that, having never entered by the south entrance, which has always struck me as probably more raccoony. We’ll see if I persevere when my morning rituals are so changed.
I also worry about people who rely on the free and accessible hot showers at Barton Springs; there are other public toilets in the park, but no showers.
The north side of the pool is not raccoon free:
I think, though I am not sure, that this fellow (photographed by the entrance) took a dip this morning.
There is a nature pool in northern NJ where swimmers share the water with snakes and turtles. I'm tempted to take a dip, but I think I scream in a higher pitch than Julia Child.