It began with me whittling a pair of dolls out of wood, resembling Seregrian and me, for our little daughter Baniel. I remember that when my aunt taught me how to swim, she started with me playing in the water, and my toys were a horse and rider my uncle had carved. Wooden toys float, you see, and that is the most important thing to understand about being in the water.
In the courtyard outside the Bar-en-Acharn manor, there is a lovely fountain with a shallow pool, its water channeled out from and into the Lhûn whose banks form the eastern boundary of Her Ladyship’s Enclave. As the summer has pressed on, the waters have warmed sufficiently for bathing, and as our precocious princess loves to splash about, this seems an ideal location to introduce her to water play.
The pool was shallow enough for her to stand in, yet deep enough for her float, push forward with strokes and kicks, and even submerge without having to touch bottom. By temporarily shutting off the flow and closing the drain, we had the perfect place to get in the water together and play; we play together a lot. By letting the sun warm the still water, she need not get chilled and be inclined to jump out. With some planning, we were soon ready for summer at the fountain.
We took turns tossing and retrieving the floating toys and she learned that with ease she could lean forward, push off, and glide across the water to retrieve her treasure. Soon, she was kicking and stroking with her arms to travel further and further to her prize. I showed her how to float on her back, and she soon got the hang of that, smiling happily up at the birds flitting by. When I showed her how to belly float, she seemed a bit apprehensive, but quickly grasped the idea of holding in a deep breath. Never did she seem afraid of water on her face. Soon, our fetching games included going completely under to grab up stones tossed to the bottom.
Before long, she was quite comfortable without my hand gently supporting her in the water. In fact, after a while she seemed unwilling to accept my help but was happy enough to reach for me if she unexpectedly inhaled or swallowed some water. Her comfort with this new place and new way to play depended on me being near, and a new channel of trust developed.
By the end of summer, our water play moved from the fountain to the large pool formed at the breakwater to the Lhûn. Her toys became less important than the fish, which she took great joy in pursuing and attempting to mimic as they darted about. Always, I stayed within arm’s reach, which she also expected, and in this I discovered a deepening trust she developed toward me.
Just as her mother had helped me bloom into the man and husband I need to be, so had Baniel called forth the father I need to be.
