Snack-A-Noodle

When I see this sight in my Subaru Crosstrek back up camera, I am hearkened back to by gone days of rafts and Coast Guard unapproved flotation devices at Maple Grove swimming pool. The smell alone of those inflated creations is enough for me to get nostalgic. I can smell, also, the french fries crushed into the wet astroturf at the snack bar coupled with the hint of chlorine and the pine sol used to scrub the toilets on the opposite side of the cinder block wall. I can hear the jukebox down at the deep end, where the cool kids displayed their cannonballs off the diving board, playing Prince and Hall and Oates. But, back to my own backyard oasis which is the reason for the floats in my garage. My new resort, Covid 19 hospitality, sanitized and sanitized again. The french fries have popped since the taking of this photo, but the Flavor Ice colors of its comrade are still on top of the water, procuring the colors of summer pastel perfection. I dream a summer dream, when the heat gives me the sleepy's after a day of free styling in the pool, a time to turn to subconscious thought like holding my breath underwater and listening to those deep sea sounds. The crackle and pop and the splashes from above. It's another world, another sound, a safe place from a pandemic. Sounds that make echoes through all my senses. Like, under the water, I can smell the pizza at that old 80's snack bar. And when a swimmer smacks a water noodle on top of the water, I can find relaxation in those ripples.