So, you are in a swimming pool with grandpas teaching grandsons how to do the Crawl and moms and dads resting on yellow rafts and perfecting their winter tans. One man stirs up the full length of the pool, getting in fifty fast laps. You are shadow-boxing in a small corner, trying not to get sunburned, determined to run in place and punch, punch, punch.
And, suddenly you are in the pool alone and there’s no one around you and you wonder if maybe you missed something important because it is still the middle of the afternoon and the Olympian guy has at least a dozen more laps to go.
Then you realize your fellow swimmers have exited the gated pool area are excitedly flocking to the pond with the fountain at the center of the condo complex where you are all staying to avoid winter for a week or two.
I mean they are flocking as pelicans do when they spy a cluster of fish. So, you get out of the warm pool into the not so warm for-Florida Florida breeze and you congregate with the others to examine the one alligator who got past the security gates and is pretending we cannot see him. Because that’s the safest thing for all of us, he warns with the one eye I can see. But the man in the fish-colored shirt needs to creep down through the glass to get a better photo for the guys back at the office.