31 Swimming

It's been a while since I published a story but I hope you enjoy this now it's here!

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Leaving the egg is difficult, even though the membrane is thin now that there is far more of her than of it.  The ridge on the top of her head helps as she butts against the membrane once more, her whole body straining against its confines.  At last, it splits and she pushes her head through the hole, feeling the water against her skin for the first time.  Her whole body shivers with delight at the sensation, the movement carrying her out of what remains of the egg and into open water.  All around her, her nest-mates are also swimming to freedom.

Being small has advantages.  They can hide in the tiny gaps between the weeds that larger creatures cannot enter.  However, they have no sense of scale and cannot distinguish those larger creatures from the surrounding water.  This proves fatal to many of her companions, whose lives are gobbled up within moments of starting.

But there are so many of them, emerging from the clumps of frogspawn at the edge of the pond, that the chance of each individual surviving long enough to make it to safety is increased.  Unaware that she has barely escaped death, she swims down into the cool dimness of the bottom of the pond.  Hungry now after her first swim, she nibbles a little of the algae clinging to the mud.

Food satisfies but swimming thrills.  The pull and twist of muscles, the sensation of water moving past her, the touch of the other objects she shares the world with.  Bits of debris fall through the water, leaf fragments, fish scales, twigs.  All are investigated, all are tasted, not all are eaten.

Attracted by the light falling through the surface of the pond, she swims upwards, instinct keeping her to the stems and fronds of the pond weed.  The water is warmer up here, a new sensation that she enjoys as she tingles all over.  It is also less obscured by debris, and although she cannot see very far, what she can see is much clearer.  There are also new sources of food as she nibbles the eggs of insects whose larvae will share the pond, if they ever hatch.

Her stomach full again, and feeling overheated, she returns to the cool, murky depths.  She swims slowly then quickly, noticing the different sensations in her body.  At a leisurely pace, her movements come from the gentle stretch and release of muscles, allowing her to watch the level of visibility drop and feeling the temperature lower as she descends.  A stronger rhythm, a more deliberate flick of her tail, and she speeds through the water, barely seeing the weeds as she hurries through them.

She reaches the pond bottom again, hunger drawing her back to the algae.  Eating allows her to grow but it also gives her the energy to swim.  Perfectly suited to a life in water, she never thinks that this life will end, that her body is designed to transform into an entirely different creature.  For now, her life is a round of swimming, eating, growing.

Swimming is the pleasure of stretching muscles, the satisfaction of locating new sources of food, and the relief of finding hiding places in the weeds, although she has never seen the creatures from which she conceals herself.  Swimming is joy and freedom.  Swimming is movement and dance.  Swimming lets her know she is alive.

There is a new scent being carried through the water and she swims eagerly to find it, tiny flicks of her tail carrying her smoothly towards it.  An apple core, thrown by a human visitor to the pond, has settled into the mud.  Around this treasure is gathered a crowd of tiny pond creatures, careless of the predators attracted by their gathering.  She pushes herself between a couple of fish fry and takes a tiny bite.  It tastes like nothing else she has ever tried, sweet and juicy despite the general muddiness of the water.

Very soon, there is nothing left of the apple, and nothing left of some of those that ate it.  And this time her luck has finally run out; she has made a meal for some other creature swimming endlessly through the pond.