There's a particular stretch of North America that I have flown over many times, usually on a long flight, usually in hot weather. Every time I am there I look down and see the same beautiful lake and I always think how wonderful it would be to go swimming in that lake. This is literally something I have imagined and fantasized about for ten years.
Recently, I was on the ground, close enough to the site, and with enough time to spare, that I could get to it. I asked a local where I could get into it to go swimming and was told that it was not possible, that it was only accessible through private agricultural land. I chose not to believe that person. I went on a quest for my perfect lake.
I didn't even see any agricultural land. My lake had a boat launching ramp. Where you can launch a boat you can launch an Aviatrix. I followed the signs. The boat launching ramp was closed. But there was nothing stopping me from launching me. There were even some other people swimming nearby. Well there was one limitation: the fact that I didn't have a swimming suit, but no way was that going to keep me out of my perfect lake. I stripped down to my bright pink underwear, reasoning that it covered more than some people's bikinis, and I waded into my lake.
I waded in to my knees and then jumped over the drop off. It was better than it looked from the air. It was refreshing, it was cool, but not too cold. It was wonderful. I swam across it and back, then put my jeans and t-shirt on over my wet underwear and continued on my way. I can't remember ever anticipating something for so long and have it so richly fulfil my expectations. And no, I'm not going to tell you where my perfect lake is. You probably have your own.
I still have mud from my perfect lake stuck around my toenails. It has perfectly fine sticky mud.