Webb Swimmer Observations

 Each day roughly July 1 through September 7, I swim in Lake Webb.  July 1, the water temp is about 70: cool, but swimmable. Swimming provides a freedom from falls or discomfort that few activities rival. Further, it provides a vista below as well as above.  In July, I swim above the hollows in the sand filled with fish eggs in sloppy jelly and watch an attendant parent position itself between me and the eggs like linebacker or a safety.  

As the water warms (about 80 at the max), a wide variety of plants grow. Some are tall and leafy, reaching for the surface and providing shelter for the many fish that allow me to join their schools.  Some are grasses, harboring algae at the base and providing a resting and mating spot for dragonflies and damsel flies. Some are plates of lily pads, sporting yellow waxy cupped flowers or white multi-petaled flowers reminiscent of lotus flowers.  The grasses and lilies harbor American Bullfrogs, whose sounds can be heard sunset to sunrise as deep throaty gallomphs.  At the maximum temperature, larger clouds of algae form at the bottom, warmed by the sun. As I swim, I stir up the fish, who swam in my wake. As I stand on Bowley Rock, small fish nibble on my toes.  The Bald Eagles and loons see how the fish swim with me and circle overhead or quietly lurk nearby, looking for an easier meal.

 By mid-August, the water is getting colder.  Algae clouds disappear rapidly within a couple hours after they start their decline.   I watch the reeds break off and float to shore, a little at a time.  I watch the underwater plants that reached for the surface turn dark, shrivel and sink.  The lily pads that I watched grow in July blossom and flower, turn red then brown.  The fish begin hovering nearer to the warm rocks now that the temperature is about 70 degrees. There are no fish that I can see, though Camille saw a large fish on our swim today through the Pine Point rock outcropping. I haven't heard or seen a frog since the first week in August.  The eagles are no longer circling overhead; I’m not hearing the loons call anymore. V’s of geese honk by.  Now September 1, the water temp is about 65, getting too cold for me without a wetsuit. 

There is such stark beauty and relevance in the cycle of life.  Summer here is so very short it’s been easy to mark the passing of spring to summer and summer to fall.  It’s been a gift to me to see these changes this summer and to renew my love for observing and studying life.