Periodically the dog wades into the shallows, mouthing sips of pond water. It is hot, must be in the 90’s. Today is the first day that I swam back and forth to the second buoy approximately one mile. Cutting through the water flows that flushed warm and cold, I stroke my way toward the marker. With face in the water, the escape of air bubbles propels me forward, then my head turns to the side and I gulp in one big breath of air. The same synchronized movements I learned so well years ago during swimming lessons, I reach with a long right arm, hand cupping water, slowly releasing bubbles, left elbow out of water, turning my head for air. The cool water supports my body as I slip through toward my destination. The rhythm is familiar. This motion unites my mind, spirit and body as I slice through the water surrounded by wild beauty. This is just what I need. There is magic in Donnell’s Pond.