Dying echos are consumed by the calming water and warm, thick air. The only sounds that remain are the slow, steady breaths of the the water and people around me. I rock on my heels at the edge, the hesitant gesture new to me. With a sigh I slowly make my way to the top of the block. A whistle shatters the silence, and my calm reverie. My breath takes on a new sharp edge, my muscles lock up, threatening never to move again. My hands grip the underside of the block hard, but any less pressure seems rediculously unecessary. A voice somewhere is telling me something but I only care for the one sound that will release me from the water's spell. Adrenaline surges through me in an overwhelming current. I don't know how long I have been still. Seconds? Hours? The fear of remaining here is almost as great as the fear of leaving. A flash. A noise. My breathing stops, my heart accelerates, and I can't turn back.
They say that some things spark memories. A picture, an item, a person. But for me it is a scent. Sea salt is calming and full of life and brings on the memories of sandcastles, shells, and finding hermit crabs along the beach. Clean water and cut grass, bring forward the world of water fights, pools and the backyard, and the sunburns of summer at home. But most of all, the deep rooted scent of chlorine takes on the images of pools, laughs, tears, friends, and teams. Of pool parties, of competition, and the long hours of bus rides.
I have never known the smell of my shampoo in my hair or anything but the smell of chlorine and sunscreen on my skin. Something so familiar still takes my breath away with every inhale of tangy pool air and every dive within its waters.
Some complain of its sharp smell and burning quality but to me no rose can compare to its alluring scent.
Why do people always look to summer? Why is summer the timeless example of the beach and swimming season. Does no one walk the beach when the sky is gray and cool? Or perhaps, no one dips their toes into a pool during one-piece season? Does the pounding rain or cold hale, keep you from doing what you love?
Water is water, a beach is a beach so why do we need a specific season the celebrate these things?
It's ok there is always next year right?
If you are a swimmer please sign my guestbook! 
Thanks for listening to my swimming rants!
