I hesitated, looking at the lake. Snow had just come off the trail a few weeks earlier. The day before, at a different mountain lake, we could only bear to put our feet in for a few moments.
It was hot, though, and despite other people on the trail, I had snagged the prime shoreline spot, on an outcropping of rocks in the sun. I had never been to this lake before, and it was warm out.
I waded in. It was cold. It didn't matter, really, what I did. But sometimes in life I tend to hesitate, trying to decide, instead of taking the leap. Sometimes I did take the leap, and it was a mistake.
Oh well, I thought. I half-jumped, half sat in the water. It took my breath away, but I floated on my back for awhile. Then I climbed out and lay on the rocks like a lizard, soaking up the sun. I read a book until some horse riders showed up, looking disappointed that someone was in the best spot. Then I packed up and hiked back out.
It wasn't a life changing decision, jumping in. But it will be a perfect memory: floating in a cold mountain lake at summer's beginning.