Thanks for this, Paul. Those pieces where the personal meets place, or perhaps it is the exactness of place, that makes the story memorable, and by story, of course, I mean your story. The intentionality is genuine.
Fascinating, beautiful, poignant & funny! (I honed in on the man who makes a tiny beach of newspaper - what a fabulous Paul image.) These shared public rituals are such an interesting window into the human condition. Love this.
Absolutely loved the remotest and closely fraught details, the fear of jumping in so common to us people, everyday and otherwise. It is wonderful you found these places of refuge and discovery, the comfort of the full swing of New Yorkers. Fitting in, still unattached. I love it every day, this place, this city, since I was brought here from Ontario as a child by my mother after my parents divorce. Been swimming all my life, since my alcoholic father, in the middle of the night, when I was two drove me and my sister just four, down to Lake Ontario and threw us in. My sister sank, I swam, like a fish, free of him and her and anyone I couldn't wait to leave behind. Swimming in cold or warm, ocean or pool, deep lake or high surf, the water sets me free. When I was little no one could get me out once I was in. I'm old now with scars and injuries from being slammed by a murderous taxi driver years back, but my mind and body are still cool with the water, the place of healing and grace, where we all adjust in one way or another to this oceanic world's environment. Fast, slow, pushing, or just doing a back float, water teaches me to keep moving, keep going, keep reaching, even when I think I can't or don't want to anymore. Thank you so much for this, Paul. It was so moving and the pace was perfect for the slow lane in order to appreciate it all. Constance
Like you, I didn't swim much. Learned at the YWCA and a local swimming pool where I could walk there. "Wild" water scared me to death. If I couldn't see the bottom, no thank you. The last time I went to a beach on the ocean, I sat far away on a grass-fringed dune and watched the waves. Bored silly. And public swimming pools are just so ... well, I've added swimming to the many things I no longer do. Yuck!
what a special place, beautiful piece, Paul.
Thanks, Tabby!
Thanks for this, Paul. Those pieces where the personal meets place, or perhaps it is the exactness of place, that makes the story memorable, and by story, of course, I mean your story. The intentionality is genuine.
Thanks, Damon, as always, for your kind and supportive words.
Fascinating, beautiful, poignant & funny! (I honed in on the man who makes a tiny beach of newspaper - what a fabulous Paul image.) These shared public rituals are such an interesting window into the human condition. Love this.
Thanks, Ellen.
Absolutely loved the remotest and closely fraught details, the fear of jumping in so common to us people, everyday and otherwise. It is wonderful you found these places of refuge and discovery, the comfort of the full swing of New Yorkers. Fitting in, still unattached. I love it every day, this place, this city, since I was brought here from Ontario as a child by my mother after my parents divorce. Been swimming all my life, since my alcoholic father, in the middle of the night, when I was two drove me and my sister just four, down to Lake Ontario and threw us in. My sister sank, I swam, like a fish, free of him and her and anyone I couldn't wait to leave behind. Swimming in cold or warm, ocean or pool, deep lake or high surf, the water sets me free. When I was little no one could get me out once I was in. I'm old now with scars and injuries from being slammed by a murderous taxi driver years back, but my mind and body are still cool with the water, the place of healing and grace, where we all adjust in one way or another to this oceanic world's environment. Fast, slow, pushing, or just doing a back float, water teaches me to keep moving, keep going, keep reaching, even when I think I can't or don't want to anymore. Thank you so much for this, Paul. It was so moving and the pace was perfect for the slow lane in order to appreciate it all. Constance
Thank you so much, Connie. Coming from you, especially, a fellow swimmer and survivor. So happy you liked it! xoxox
Like you, I didn't swim much. Learned at the YWCA and a local swimming pool where I could walk there. "Wild" water scared me to death. If I couldn't see the bottom, no thank you. The last time I went to a beach on the ocean, I sat far away on a grass-fringed dune and watched the waves. Bored silly. And public swimming pools are just so ... well, I've added swimming to the many things I no longer do. Yuck!