Water
The lake in April
Too cold. I went in anyway, which is not bravery, just a habit I haven't broken.
Lea Nyström
April water in that lake is a dare you offer yourself and then regret for twelve seconds. After that it is just cold. I don't stay long. I don't have a community around it. I have a towel in the car and a flask that is never as hot as I thought.
A dog on the jetty watched me like I had made a mistake. The dog was right.
Getting out
The air feels warm when you leave the water, which is a lie the body tells so you don't panic. I dressed badly, fingers too thick for the zip. Drove home with the heater on and the window cracked because the car smelled of lake.
