The water envelopes me like a cozy atmosphere of fur. It is a hug long overdue. My eyes are closed. I am at my happy place. Sounds of screaming children are distant, but they do not reach me. Drops of rain stream towards my face like kamikaze missiles, determined to flush me out of serenity - yet I do not feel them. I lie still, arms floating. I could be dead, but this felt multitudes better.
I feel safe.
Invisible.
Healed. The right medial epichondritis I sustained from air hockey is certainly more bearable than before.
Maybe I've grown older? More mature? More boring? Perhaps a beer belly would really complete the moment?
It has been quite a while since I visited the hot pools of Hamner Springs - fifteen years to be exact. On this particular Christmas Eve Andrew, Clinton and myself ventured towards our destination with one common purpose in mind - to relax and be merry. The purpose of the place use to overwhelm my comprehension of an eleven year-old world. What? Sit in a smelly hot tub for hours with other strangers? I can't put my head in the water? I could have done that in the comfort and convenience of our bath at home, without the strangers; and the funny sulphurous smell would be mine and mine only.
Now it appears the tables of desire have turned. The purpose is clear. The reason shines like day light. The method is second nature.
Maybe I am more mature? I'd like to think so.
More impervious to laziness? Sure... why not...
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