A little later—6:30AM—but low—26 degrees. At first, I’m the only person there, apart from the ballroom ghosts of mist foxtrotting on the water. Other people, and cormorants, come later. I won’t say the water feels warm in comparison, but once I start moving my feet feel warm. Travel has kept me from the pool since December 21st, and cold weather (if the roads are icy) may keep me from it tomorrow and the next day.
Sure, I swim at Barton Springs year-round so I can brag, but also to remind myself that I’m tough. It’s cold in Texas, worrisomely cold, as it is a lot of places this week. Concentric circles of worry: for those with no way to keep warm, for what happens if the power grid fails, for what it means about the planet. At the HEB Austinites using big blankets as overcoats were buying twelve packs of beer and gallons of water. Our plants are wearing blankets, too.
Yesterday I was in Colorado with my dear old pal Ann Patchett; we did an event together in Aspen and stayed for an extra day. For a while it seemed as though we might be staying for several extra days, but we managed to get out by taking a car to Grand Junction and flying from there. I almost can’t believe that I’m home. I am zipped into the fake fur boiler suit I bought thinking I’d wear it après swim, without understand how tricky it would be to pull it on over damp skin. The water was not too cold this morning, but afterwards I felt like one of those old-fashioned metal ice-cube trays that operate with a latch like an old-fashioned ice-box: I was cracklingly cold all the way through.
If you are reading this, I hope you stay warm. I hope that everyone else is staying warm, too.
I forwarded this to my parents, who are staying in in the cold instead of going to the dining hall for meals. I have a brother in Colorado right now, a sister in Kansas (also canceling travel), and our Massachusetts overnights in the teens are sounding balmy. I just finished Tom Lake, which I curled into like Mr. Mole in his den for the winter. Oh, those metal ice cube trays. Oh the foxtrotting mists. Oh people keeping warm enough on this beloved mess of a warming planet.
May you stay warm and safe. It's cold up here in New Jersey, but not nearly as cold as it has been. I'm still out there with the birds and barreling down trails on my bike. Waiting for snow!