Swimming

You take a few steps into the water, until it comes halfway up your legs. The water is cold, but not icy cold. Your feet sink down into the mud a little, just a centimeter or so. You twist them around and dig them in, relishing the feel of the wet minerals on your skin and in between your toes.

Wading in further, the water now comes up to your chest. You are mesmerized by the thousands of ripples you see on the surface of the water, little waves all moving in unison. The water fascinates you, being so many billions (trillions?) of little molecules, so fluid and dynamic, yet collected together as one body of water.

Striding a few feet further, the water comes up to your neck, and you feel some pressure on your chest. The vastness and movement of the water is overwhelming, and you wish you could just lose yourself in the deeps. But you cannot breath water, nor are you are equipped for diving today, so you decide to keep your head above water. You continue to stand and to enjoy the experience as long as possible, before the coldness of the water drives you back to the dry, warm beach.