The water feels cool and silky on the heat of my skin, and it's a welcome feeling to slide into it. As I begin my lengths (I do the backstroke, for many reasons), I notice many things.
The number of pigeons roosting around the buildings is considerably less than it used to be. The kites glide effortlessly, as usual, across the deepening gloom. The bats seem to have increased...many of the larger fruit bats, as well as the small pipistrelles, flap their familiar-from-horror-movies shapes across the gloaming and some of the tiny ones even swoop down for a quick kiss-and-a-sip of the water in the pool.
The waxing moon rides in the sky, and little by little, the stars begin to show in the darkening sky. I can slowly make out Orion's belt, and the tip and handle of his sword. I try to look for Sirius, but cannot distinguish it. The two points of light near the moon...are they stars or planets? I cannot make it out, as my eyes get soaked with the water and a bright prismatic circle surrounds the moon.
Fans are whirling in people's homes, but surprisingly, not a single person is out on the balconies; perhaps this is the time when families gather together to talk or to watch television.
I have the pool to myself. Though it was opened more than a week ago, fear of the virus has kept most people from using the pool, and this certainly works to my advantage! As I begin my fifteenth lap (I've been doing 25 and intend to make it 30 soon), someone (female, because she's just used the ladies' changing room) gets into the pool, and she, too, does her lengths (much more efficient in her freestyle than my slow backstroke.) After some time, she leaves, and I finish my lengths, once again the solitary swimmer.
I feel cool and fresh, and having showered and come upstairs, have a light snack with a little cup of just-in-case Samahan, an Ayurveda powder taken in piping hot milk. Pleasantly drowsy, I sit down..and write this.
You may have gathered by now that I do love my evening swim!