The water no longer felt cold. It closed around him like a comforting blanket in winter piled atop a child on the edge of sleep. And the air above, its life-giving oxygen so seemingly close but unattainable, stopped calling him to the sunlight that suffused it, to the cool green of the late spring leaves that waved so verdant and free in its breezes. In the warmth and in the new-found peace that had taken root in him, his whole body loosened and relaxed. The water grew gradually murkier as he passed without movement through it. He stretched out his limbs as in a comfortable yawn and reclined upon the bed of rocks at the bottom of the lake.