Found

 

Rooted here

Quiet, earth-bound

Tremors of wisdom fill the air

An embrace wide enough to span

The ocean.

A feast of tranquility

An understory of understanding

Bliss.

The North Pool

 Shoes squeak across the YMCA lobby. Folks of all ages hurrying to their class or preferred workout area. 

A notice is posted at the desk that the north pool is temporarily closed, so lap swim is available only in the south pool. Two women walk by whispering about a rumored drowning at this morning's water exercise class. 

I decide to walk over and check it out for myself.

I peer through the glass of the observation deck. The lights are off in the pool area and it's hard to see. The rescue hook, kick boards, water weights and a discarded swim shoe lay strewn across the deck. 

I checked the locker room door. Unlocked. I pushed it open and entered the dark space. The only light was a soft glow coming from the sink. A woman stood there, naked as the day she was born, finger combing her hair in the mirror. 

"Hello," I ventured. "I was just trying to figure out why the pool is closed.

She continued futzing with an errant curl near her right ear.

"Oh, I don't know what all the fuss is about," she replied as she continued to struggle with an errant curl near her right ear. 

I washed my hands and told her what I'd heard at the front desk. When I looked up again, she was gone. All that was left was a single water shoe and a small puddle of pool water where she had stood. My question had been answered.