There is something strangely paradoxical about night swimming: serene, calming while chaotic, silly. At least with half the city's kids in the pool with you it is. Lorelei swims well, and she and her friend Karly, who is an even better swimmer, cruised the pool like dolphins. Watching your baby stand on the diving board wracks you a bit, though she has done it dozens of times. But I never seem to get used to it. Then - off she jumps! Coming up perfectly and swimming to the other side.
Both she and Semeli learned to swim at their preschool, but for Semeli, that was last summer. This was only the second time in the pool for Semeli since then, so she was a bit nervous. I held her with me the whole time, coaxing her to venture a bit more and more as the night wore on. When we arrived, dusk loomed, and soon, the pool lights glowed. This is what I love about night swimming: the water illuminated, the blue-green of the water brightly lit. I just don't know what it is. It's calming and romantic and cool all at once.
Just as I gazed at the lights, Semeli pointed out the half-moon on the rise. Bright and beautiful. What could be more perfect?
As Lorelei and Karly played, Semeli summoned up the courage to put her face in the water. Then, she got some in her nose.
"Wait a minute," she said as she squeezed her little nose. "I have to energize my nose." I laughed out loud and felt very grateful to be mom to these beautiful, crazy children.
The ending to the perfect night was seeing a raccoon on the street on the way home. We see them often, but seeing it at this time, on this night, made for an apt closing to a wondrous evening.