there’s nothing better on a hot summer’s day, then to pack up your things and leave the noisy stinking city behind to have a rockin’ good time out in the country.

add a bottle of champagne, a cool blue greenish lake, a lot of nature and a friend with whom you can talk for hours and hours and hours and still find conversational topics to die for – men, shoes, books, ice cream…

that’s the perfect weekend get-away. and – best of all things – it’s just fifteen minutes from home. sadly enough not every sunday afternoon can be spent in this blissful perfection. this past one has been spent at home, brooding, not being happy with life at all and dreading to climb down four sets of stairs – those always looming ahead when coming home again.

but i decided to do something about it. if repeating last weekends wonderful ways would make me happy and reapeating was out of the question due to the absent friend, the lateness of the afternoon and my own foolish weltschmerz, then i could at least write it all down – get it out of the system and look at fotos of the unsurpassable beauty of the lake.

when i drift into that water, smooth as silk, i forget all my worries. i swim into the sunshine, i lie on my back and watch the clouds sail over the endless blue of the summer sky. then i am happy. only sometimes, in the middle of the lake, there is this feeling of terror. this ever so slight notion of a presence under water, which might come up and drag me down. the fascination with monsters and sea creatures, with sharks and mermaids – not the sea, not even loch ness, but something could be lurking here as well.

i turn and swim back towards the shore. i am not scared. my skin tingles with excitement and pleasure at the same time.