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It is a beautiful wooden platform, embraced on the left by a stubby tree. The tree is more like a twisted trunk that sprouts miniature branches and leaves. They arrive during the hot months. They live on until the summer season is over, and when none of us can visit until the next holiday.
I remember sitting in a deck chair with flowered cushions, greedily snatching up black olives and the delicious sausage from the local butcher. The twisted trunk to the left and the surrounding vegetation shade us from the burning sun and a slightly damp towel lies abandoned on the tree. I went swimming in the lake this morning.
A fat wasp buzzes near, sensing the sweet lime cordial drink in front of me and the numerous fruits on the plate. Anxiously, I throw my handful of olives onto the plate and run screaming down the lawn barefoot, the wind whipping by and cooling my flushed face.
I end up before the legendary lake, my toes curling into the rough shore. Sharp sticks and stones prod into the soles of my feet. Tough green weeds poke right up, unmoving against the chill breeze.
The waters of the lake ripple gently in the wind, dark and mysterious. Calling me in. In the distance, a looming land throws its shadow on the lake. When I was little, I thought it was an island, but now I know it is only part of the earth I now stand on.
One foot creeps into the icy waters and the hairs on my arms prick up as I realise the coldness of the misty water. Still, I dip in the other foot, readying my hands to pull my skirt up above my knees for the deeper part of the lake. Soon I am up to my thighs in water, the hem of my skirt soaked. I have two choices: to head out of the water or dive in, clothes and all.
I decide on the latter. I walk farther in so I can dive under without taking a gash to my head. I ready myself for the cooling dive.
I plunge into the water, my arms pointed like an arrowhead and my legs stretched out in the back. The cold-looking water seems suddenly lukewarm to me and I paddle freely on my back.
I lower my legs from the lake’s surface down into the water. I’ve gone far enough out that my feet don’t touch the slimy, algae-covered rocks. It’s a comfort to me, but yet I am still paranoid about the fishy creatures that lurk in this body of water. The idea of it scares me out of the water, but I am not scared out of this beautiful place.
