Lime Street Knits

Too hot to knit in Boston today and yesterday as well. Last night, on impulse, I strolled to my newish gym to check out their pool. In a nutshell, it's brilliant. (And you should see it out of the nutshell...) It's indoors, on the top floor of the building and encased in glass. So as you swim you can look up at the sky or out, over the square. And if you go at night, like I did, odds are you'll only have to share the pool with one or two others.

My intention had been to do a few laps to cool off, but I found myself primarily floating; enjoying the sensation of the cool water on my skin and marveling at how remarkably silent the room was.

I work downtown. I live on a very busy city street. The subway passes immediately under my apartment building. I am surrounded by loud, jarring noise all day long. So much so that I rarely notice the sirens, cars, screaming people, etc anymore. I only notice their absence. And they're absent so rarely that experiencing quiet, genuine quiet, awakens something in me that I can only compare to the feeling I used to get in church as a child.

So I floated.