From the Publisher: Adult Swim 

click to enlarge

• Paula Routly ©️ Seven Days

In the next few days, one of my favorite summer activities will come to an end: swimming outside. We're not talking about long-distance, open-water forays into Lake Champlain. I've done that a few times, but I find too many things to worry about, from staying in a straight line to the possibility of getting sliced in half by a boat.

Less dramatically, my every-other-day aquatic adventure happens in a community pool, the kind I frequented as a kid, all day, every day, from June through August. I get inexplicable joy from slipping into one of the lanes cordoned off for adult exercise and dutifully racking up the laps. On the other side of the divider, youngsters are being launched in the air, playing the timeless game of Marco Polo and loving the water in a way that only children can. I welcome the adjacent cacophony like a childless cat lady — with vicarious pleasure.

I usually start my swim about an hour and a half before sunset. Whatever the disaster of the moment, the ritual of propelling myself back and forth 72 times always makes me feel better. Physical aches and pains melt away, too. Proper breathing is key, and for me, that deep, regular respiration amounts to a rare hour of meditation. Only a stray pool noodle can break the spell.

Of course, lifeguards are a part of the scene — high schoolers sitting on tall chairs who are both respected and adored by the younger kids. They work in pairs, trading off the hard job of keeping a watchful eye on the splashing humanity. Over Labor Day weekend, their last hurrah, I noticed one of the lifeguards, a young woman, had brought a print copy of the Sunday New York Times.

While I was getting suited up in the pool house, I overheard her partner, a young man, ask her: "What's that you're reading?"

"The New York Times," she said. "I don't like to read long stories online; I prefer the paper."

"Is it good?" he asked.

"I don't know how to answer that question," she replied. "It's the New York Times."

You tell him, sister!

The lifeguards are long gone, but the pool has stayed open. I've swum in the rain, wind and cold but also had the place to myself on some of the most beautiful days of the summer. If the weather is hot, families come, but the sun sets earlier now. When it drops behind the pool house and the evening shade slowly creeps across the sparkling water, they generally don't stick around. Then I'm all alone in this blissful spot, buoyed by sun-warmed waters, looking up at the darkening sky, pink clouds and changing leaves.

It won't last much longer. I aim to soak up every drop of what's left.