Recent water surface photos. Lake, river. I swam in the first body of water, not the second (and moments after the second photo was taken an enormous boat charged down the river, disturbing the pleasing pattern of ripples). Whenever I see surfaces like these I find them almost irresistibly inviting, even in winter, but I resist, because what I am actually thinking of as I imagine casting off my clothes and diving in is the soothing entry into the clear, still pool, not the shock cold and silty ambiguity of wild water. That water border is one I’m careful about crossing, except in my imagination.