Down under the water, that is. I walked down to the lake this morning to find it was 58 degrees. Chilly, but a step up from where it was a month ago when I started swimming. The air was chill with a stiff breeze, so it was good to jump in and get out of the wind.

Swimming in salt water is a weightless joy, with the undulating waves, and sweep of the ocean as backdrop, The ocean water, when calm, is much more clear than the murky water of this lake, which affords no more than a 5 or 6 foot view, like a weak beam in heavy fog. The consolation in fresh water is this: no sharks. Nothing but an ancient snapping turtle the size of a small vehicle in these fresh waters, and I haven't seen him in a couple years. Thankfully, they keep to themselves.

I can't say the same about the other critters. There was a small fish to greet me when I dove in, but he was gone in a flash, and then it was oddly solitary on the water. No unflappable 5 pound bass eyeing me curiously as I passed above, as I had seen before. Confident, they are, that my lumbering bulk posed no danger, just like the shark that had passed under me last year on an ocean swim as if I wasn't even there. No cormorant today guarding the rocks where I marked my lap, holding position boldly until I got within arm's reach. You wouldn't think a duck would make you nervous, but when they hold their ground, and you are hanging in the water, it can make you feel oddly vulnerable. Even better, the gander who had made it his job to swim at me aggressively when I approached his island was nowhere to be found. No doubt he was off protecting his hatch lings, who had emerged a few days back. A goose will give you more pause than a duck. They mean business. Several times he had caused me to stop mid stroke, tread water furiously, and splash at him like a crazed middle schooler fighting back in the pool. None of that today. I was the apex predator. The underlings must have figured out my swimming pattern by now, and learned to stay away. I felt a Tarzan scream coming on.

Those of you who are old enough will remember the phrase, 'just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water.' I caught a flash of something on my left. Something big. It must have been a boulder, but wait, the rocks were on my right. I paused my stroke so I could turn my head to get a better look. OMG. You guessed it. Snapping turtle. I broke the surface to gulp a breath and laid flat against the water to turn again. Gone. I turned behind. Ahead. The other side. Gone, into thin water. You think those things are slow? Not in here. I was adjacent to an underwater pile of rocks on my right that I suspected may have given him shelter. I hurriedly windmilled a few strokes to put 12 feet of water under me on all sides. Still no sign of the dinosaur in my few feet of vision.

I lamented that I wouldn't get in much of a swim today, then recalled the shark. I had thought to get out of the water then, as well, but the shark had gone his merry way, so i figured I could go mine. Now again, I considered that if I got out now, I might never have the nerve to get back in that water. So I pressed on.

My toes are still cold, but the coffee is hot.