Swimming through Springtime

Living in a place with such mild, subtle shoulder seasons can sometimes make you forget which time of year you are approaching. This morning I swam through moonlit fog and in my meditative lethargy I found myself disoriented a couple of times as I rotated out of the water for breath as to whether the trees were just losing their leaves to brace for winter or growing them back to provide merciful shade for the summer ahead. With no scent of the blooming Mountain Laurels to cue me, I felt like i was swimming through some sort of astrophysical anomaly - floating through space and time - much like dozing between the reality of wakefulness and the abstraction of sleep. During a time in my life when I am so acutely aware of each week that passes towards an impending date, an ethereal experience like this seemed to wash me out in a way I didn't even realize I needed. I so quickly forget the therapeutic cleanse that nature offers with its benign indifference to my being and happenings. Humbled and steadied for each time an experience reminds me.