"It gets better after the first minute," you said at Barton Springs

I lowered myself into Barton Springs Pool one April morning, swearing very loudly. You were floating on your back three feet away with a green towel on the edge of the pool and said, it gets better after the first minute. Then you swam off. I stayed in a long time, counting. At sixty seconds I stopped swearing. At ninety I stopped counting. You were right about the minute. I have not seen you since. I would like you to know that I am now a person who swims in April.