Pool
There’s a pool near my way of Austin named Barton Creek Pool. In the blistering heat of summer, it’s an attraction that draws tourists and residents to cool down and submit themselves to a natural basin. Stretching over 3 acres long, Barton Creek is filled by nearby natural springs that were rumored to be used for purification rituals by Tonkawa Native Americans. When you arrive, you’re slightly overwhelmed by not only the vastness of the pool but its inhabitants as well. Twenty-somethings are scattered around the edge, unafraid of the harsh sunlight. Families have taken refuge from the heat usually under some of the tall, but weathered trees. Swimmers are leaving, while groups are cramming themselves down the beaten steps towards the pool. Some women choose to exercise the topless optional rule. The ones who do are typically the tantalizing types. Ones that are fully aware of their comeliness and are unabashed to show it. Their skin is perfectly tan from repeat visits. Their hair is long and frizzled in a flawless manner from just coming out of the water. Or short and slicked back like a Vogue model. They aren’t all Euro-centrically perfect. The ones with imperfections are the more distinctly memorable ones. The women with freckles sprinkled all over their shapely bodies. The ones laughing at the frigidness of the water with their plump lips. The men are peacocking themselves whether to attract a mate or assert themselves in the ever-threatening environment filled with hormones and egos. Their abs are well-defined or not existent, regardless, the men are all tan. The sounds of the pool are as formidable as the aesthetics. The West side of the pool has a diving board that is around a foot off the ground. The anxious swimmers in line are stretching and nervously scrounging for conversation instead of thinking about the loud recoil of the board or the painful plop of the diver. The aggressive whistles of the lifeguards posted about a few yards away from each other. The East side of the pool can enjoy the booming music by those across the border of the pool. The ones enjoying the pool versus those outside of the confines of the pool who are mere spectators - more concerned with passing a joint and bathing their dogs. For someone going alone, the setup is slapdash. Find a spot near the pool, claim your ground with your towel, and scatter your summer things around to gain space. When you settle, it’s hard not to appreciate the Austin city skyline in the distance.
The locals know how cold the pool is, but to those not accustomed, it can be quite a shock. Along the edge of the pool are dry, soon-to-be swimmers conjuring up the nerve to jump in. Some make the mistake of testing the waters, only exacerbating their nerves and fears. The trick, that everyone knows, is to take the leap and submerge yourself fully. Instantly. There is no more set-up. Everything else aforementioned floats away. It’s just you versus the threat of the water. Looking down, you can see the algae dancing amongst the sea leaves, inviting you to join the fun. There is a gap between the water and the edge of the pool, so you can swing your feet while sitting on the edge without actually touching the water just yet. You hear the shrieks of those soon-to-be swimmers evolving into divers. Some of the droplets from their splash catch your soft skin. The longer you sit, the more anxiety builds. You feel as if people are watching. As if they’re betting on whether or not you become a man. Your ego and shoulders drop, but you pull them back up. You turn and take one last look behind you to make sure your possessions are still yours. You turn back, use your arms to lift yourself from the sitting position, and hoist yourself into the water. There wasn’t one part of your body that touches the water first. You entirely submitted it instantly. It feels like a Taser shot echoing throughout your body. The sound of the crowd becomes muffled, and you can only clearly hear the hum of the pool. The feint laughter you heard before becomes slightly more audible the longer you wait. You notice that the water isn’t as blue as you thought it was from the outside. After a few heartbeats of your body fighting the cold, you submit completely to its inevitability. Why fight it? Your body will respond how it responds, the only thing that is malleable is your mind.
When you climb out, you feel the heat wrapping your skin. It’s no longer the enemy, but a blanket of warmth. Despite it feeling like you drank ten cups of coffee, your anxiety is lifted off of you. Your chest is still catching its breath, but you know the weightlessness you feel is exactly what you came for. From the moment you stepped into the pool’s gates, every step you took was towards the water. It was inevitable. The observations you made about the pool are still the same, but your place has changed. You are not a spectator anymore, you are part of the zeitgeist of the pool and you have relinquished your apprehension. The pool itself welcomes you back in and you are ready.
