Tadpole

Little ripples on the surface. Expanding out from the lake shore . I feel the blood filling my head, the longer I hold it over my reflection. Funky smirks, a scrunched nose, 2 eyes, and a mountain of uncertainty. Tiny bugs flit around the water, as leaves rustle above me, and fall slowly.

Kicking off my shoes, I feel freedom, at least in my foot. Peel off the dried sock, point my toes, dip it in the cool Tahoe basin. Hell – feeling it – I just jump right in – clothes, cell phone, keys and all.

Plunging into the icy water, 40 degrees stabbing me all over my body – my face, my ears, my cheeks, neck, arms, fingers, chest, stomach, down to my waist. That snowmelt from the Sierras is no joke.

Relaxing, I pull an old Boy Scout trick, start to warm myself up. Yellow liquid mixing in with the clear snow-water. In between hyperventilating, I chuckle to myself – arms struggling to tread water.

Warm, warm, at least around my waist. I swim to get away from my self. Been doing it for the last 3 years really. My friend Darin walks out from the shore, asks how I’m doing. I smile, wave, say I’m doing fine.

Little ripples on the surface.