Last Swim at Greenwood Furnace

Some of our local state park swimming beaches closed after last weekend. The rest of them will close on Monday. I guess that means summer is truly over and done. After that, we'll only be able to swim in the wild places we know. So I don't think this was our last swim entirely. But it WAS very likely our last swim at Greenwood Furnace.

Above you may see the ropes around the swimming area, and the start of the autumn colors in the trees. It's just a little bit here and there, maybe 5 percent or so. Nothing to sneeze at, but not necessarily something to write home about . . . yet. The good news is . . . the color show is starting!

The solitary grebe we saw last time was still there, but I did not catch sight of the huge frog. I did, however, spy a thing I hadn't seen there before: a water snake, swimming vigorously along the surface, looking like it was heading for the beach area.

That makes three snakes for me, in about the past two-week period: a garter snake in the gameland where I saw the butterfly, a rattlesnake in Quehanna, and now, a water snake at Greenwood Furnace. It seems a little late in the season for them to be so active, but hey, I'm no expert, and I am not in charge of the snakes here, there, or anywhere.

As the season ends, I think of some things I have seen and done here: the cormorant we spotted sitting on the very ropes you see in this photo, that time we finally came back, after we'd been away from Greenwood Furnace for 20 years. And the Amish lady who grabbed my thigh that one time, and how I explained to her about cold, cold water, and how it is a conduit - to me - of grace.

The water was as nice as it ever has been. It was cold and clean and smelled like water and nothing else ("just-wa," as my husband calls it). Getting in that water was dicey, and I caught my breath at every step.

But it was cool and fine once I was in, and the water - our chilliest swim of the year - made me feel peaceful and calm. It makes me wistful when the swimming season ends, because there is no guarantee when we will be back here now.

It felt like the last dance of summer. So the song to accompany this image of leaves and reflections, with summer sliding into autumn, is Donna Summer, with Last Dance.