Professor's Lake

When I was young at the lake, I walked along the sand and followed it closely with my family and friends. Immersed in the water, concentrating on the seaweed tangled on the ground, I occasionally jumped up when I saw a salamander without legs, arms, or eyes. Suddenly, a tadpole approached, and I lost my way. Swimming in the water, I imagined myself as a mermaid, keeping my legs together to mimic the tail of an eel, dolphin, or shark while swimming around the bottom of the lake. I remember holding my breath underwater for as long as possible to break the Guinness World Record, or maybe I just wanted to do it for fun. Those summer days, I felt the moisture of the heat clamping onto my skin, and I saw the curve of the lake just below, always on my side.

When I was young, at the lake, while I was swimming, litres of salt water would slip into my mouth as new waves came towards me. I differentiated the salt, rocks, and dirt as they entered my mouth and made their way to my stomach. I heard small children screaming with joy and parents telling them to put on sunscreen, so they don't burn. I played in the wet sand when I brought water from the lake to the shore. It was still warm outside, but the shade of the trees growing haphazardly, densely, and deliberately along the lake protected me. I couldn’t wait to put my feet in the water again.

Making my dog go in the water when I wanted to play, scare or jump with him. I was always thrilled to see Handsome having fun. Shaking his fur all over me, after he got drenched or soaked from the water of the lake. Laughing every time, my mother made practical, hilarious jokes with my grandmother. In the water, I felt refreshed, and the flow from the lake made me forget everything.
When I was young, by the lake, I remember seeing the seagulls looking for food to snatch, grab or pick. Chasing after them whenever I wanted to play or capture one. Seeing the majestic birds still flying and floating impossibly above the water without plunging made my eyes sparkle with curiosity. I saw their large, black, shining eyes scanning the lake's deep blue, making me wonder what lay beyond the jetty of the crystallized lake.

I remember my hair soaked in water and wrapped in a towel, lying on the gravelled sand floor when I was by the lake. My mom stroked my hair, telling me she loved me, as I relived the things I did at the lake that day with my family and loved ones. I remember when my friends and I were out by the lake in the cold, competing for the last one to get our feet out of the water and laughing out loud. Knowing some of the most incredible memories were built around my time at the lake.
Gliding towards my family's car, I am reminiscent of the lake’s experience. Swoosh, Swoosh, Splash, Splash, my memory acts like a mirror to the past lest I forget that beautiful day at the lake.