Outside, it was unbelievably hot, and the only real promise of cooling down seemed to be the lake. I put on a swimsuit with long sleeves, a cap, and sunglasses, slathered myself thickly with sunscreen (SPF 50), and went to the lake beach. Of course, it was packed. More than that — it was almost impossible to find space to lay a towel on the ground without touching another towel. Typical lake beach stress.

I put down my stuff and quickly slipped into the water. Surprisingly, the water wasn’t refreshing at all. The lake water was so incredibly warm that I didn’t feel even a little chill when entering.

Swimming was just wonderful. I love swimming far out and finally being free from all interruptions. I never wear headphones in the water, so this is one of the rare moments when my thoughts can flow freely, and my imagination can build castles in the air of various dimensions. I swam toward Oberwil because I had time — I could swim for ages. I observed the shore, the happenings on the water, but really it was like a meditation, and I was far away somewhere in nirvana.

I knew, unfortunately, that I couldn’t swim for the rest of the evening but would eventually have to return to my computer to answer some emails as I had promised today. I’ve always been responsible like that.

It wasn’t really about sport — I swam breaststroke quite relaxed, with my head always above water, sunglasses, and cap, just comfortably. Simply wonderful. But now, according to my feeling of time, I had to turn around. I didn’t have a watch. For one thing, I don’t own a watch and don’t want one. There’s already enough stress without a watch.

I turned around and swam back. After a few meters, I saw an insect in the water fighting for its life — probably a bee. I wanted to help but didn’t know how. I was very far from the shore. I kept swimming, but the bee stayed in my mind. After a few more meters, I turned around and went back to find the struggling bee.

It wasn’t easy to find her, but eventually, I did. I thought about what to do. The only place I could put her was my cap. I took off my cap and, splashing water, tried to fish the bee out of the water through the outer edge of the cap. Technically, it was a challenging task, but after a few tries, I succeeded. I put the cap with the bee back on my head and hoped she had enough strength to lift herself up for at least half an hour until I reached the shore. Then I continued swimming and forgot about the bee.

When I got to shore, the bee came back to my mind. I took off my cap. Yes, the bee was still there. But the half hour in the sun had been enough for her to dry off. She had gained volume and was a pretty substantial specimen. I carefully shook her onto a bush because there was no space on the grass at the lake beach and too much risk she would be stepped on.

I can’t promise this story has a happy ending, but I really hope so. Hopefully, the bee found her way home.