Le Fumarole

then I walk along the shoreline, toward the west of Maronti Bay. I could also get there by cab boat of course. I have an ancestral connection with this area of hot sands and vapors, effects of the always active secondary volcanism. There are only a few of us. I dive in. I swim against the current with my eyes closed to avoid the diagonal bounces of the sun's rays. I slow the pace of my strokes. Warmth envelops me. When I come out of the water, the wind dries me in an instant. Magic.