aldo-vallon - September 19, 2017
The ancient art of skinny dipping goes all the way back to the first people who bravely trekked into the water. Whether they knew of the dangers they risked encountering by letting their dangles hangle freely in the water is unknown, but we risk nearly the same amount when we teabag the waters ourselves. Instead of some monstrous sea creature trying to take a bite, our primary concern would be a blue gill taking a nibble or hotel security catching us in the act. I appreciate that primeval connection to the past it gives by knowing I am experiencing something all of my ancestors did as well. I can admit there is probably not much else I can claim to have in common with them. The only animals I kill are the ones bold enough to run out in front of my car, even then I feel remorse. The only other act I might claim to share is that of sex, but I would rather not imagine anyone in my bloodline doing that. I do not care how many generations separate us, that is a no-go zone for family.
Photo Credit: Steve Fisher