In a Zen koan a monk is chased by a tiger. At a precipice he can just in time swing himself over the edge, and dangles from a branch, the gnarling tiger just above him, beneath a fathomless depth. Then, just within reach, he sees a wild strawberry. Oh, how deliciously juicy!
Now that’s a cliffhanger!
The first time again Dusty came to me I reached out and in the shiest of ways she half rounded her entire body just a double finger width away from me. Just a little ‘or else!’, then she laid back in the sparkle of the sun and left my fingers to dance a ballet on nailspitzen. Myself, quite contrarily, had to work hard to maneuver myself beside her. In spite of her apparent leisure she’s always alert and reacts to the slightest cause for alarm. In her wilderness solitary is the safest option.
My waterwing has been a serious concern for her through all our swimming years. I have tried out an elastic binder, to have my hands free without losing the wing. But sometimes it even proved to be more in our way. So by meticulously moving it out of hers she has become more comfortable and trusting.
Not only have I gained more control of the waterwing, I keep discovering subtle maneuvers to keep my balance in the water. Like Dusty’s positioning is flawless. My legs are kept together by the monofin, which prevents me from using them with bipedal intuition. Also the absence of gravity makes orienting on solid ground rather useless. And the resistance of water slomo-s reactions to imbalance considerably. So the only way to create something more solid in midwater is with my waterwing.
Or rather the difference between the fluidity, when moved flat, and its mobile resistance when ‘blocking’, has slowly taken the place of intuitive interaction with my balance.
It is notoriously complicated to give a detailed account of 3D motion in action. There is a lot of self-evident circumstantial maneuvering to an infinite number of ends.
Some maneuvers are easier to explain, like when I want to go down I first push myself up off the flat wing, then tilt it down and use the gravity invoked by pushing myself partly above the surface to give me a push under.
Or when I want to spin around my axis, by alternating the heaving and pushing of the slanted leading part, like digging sideways.
When I’m grooming Dusty she doesn’t lie still. Though she moves slowly I do have to keep up with her. My one hand is scratching her, the other one holds the wing. With that hand I have to keep the wing away from Dusty and simultaneously keep my balance relative to her body. Normally I hold the wing in the middle, but sometimes I just hold it by one tip, so it’s as far away from Dusty as possible, and push or pull myself against the resistance I can create by turning it perpendicular against the necessary motion, or let it flow towards a position I need another pull or push from.
And again the waterwing proves to have uncharted possibilities. Not only by creating a push-off balance with the monofin it kind of doubles propulsion power, its versatility opens an infinite fleet of maneuvers to enhance one’s presence in the wet realm.