My favorite part of a dive into water is the rise back to the surface. It starts after plunging down to the trough of the dive, and I give my upraised arms one breast stroke to my sides to send my arced body upwards. In those few feet of water, I remain still as water flows over me and washes the dirt from the day, and the clutter from my mind. I feel like could be there forever, perpetually floating to the surface, and I could be content. But breaking the surface is inevitable, and it makes the fleeting rise from the depths all the more special.
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