A delight! I've always been a swimmer but for the last fifteen years or so an on and off cold water swimmer too, after noticing that when mopey a plunge into cold water is a non-medicated cure. Well, not a cure, but truly helpful for stopping black-hole-thought-spiraling. The essays approach swimming and the pond from the spiritual to the physical, the most awe-inspiring essays being by or about the all-year-rounders (breaking ice if need be) many of whom are octogenarians or more. The rule of thumb for winter swimming (centigrade only!) as laid out in one essay is IC=one minute, max. I made it last year down to 8C and no way was I staying in 8 minutes (that's 48F for us Yanks)! Maybe 2-3 plus a lot of screaming and panting! Cold water swimming has become a thing, but you have to love fresh water since nary a pool is kept that cold. And half the fun is the fact that with the seasons the temperatures vary. Anyway, there's a nice variety of essays too, one by a lifeguard, another by a young woman addicted to her phone, a few by young mothers going mad except for escapes to swim, by artists and by seekers. They all share the experience of reduced stress and the abundance of thoughtful peacefulness and consideration of each other in this almost holy place. Forget going to London for museums and theatre, but I might be convinced to go in order to swim in the Hampstead Pond! ****1/2 ( )

There’s something really special about swimming in ponds and lakes. I wait every year for my first dip in the lake, heading out past the reeds and the cattails to float above an unseen bottom, sometimes brushed by lacy tendrils of seaweed, wondering whether fish are darting past me in the cold, refreshing water. My lake is quite different than I imagine the Ladies’ Pond at Hampstead Heath to be but as I read this collection of essays from authors and poets of different ages, races, and sexuality I felt the same love and feeling for place that I feel for my lake, plus their appreciation of the community of women, open and inclusive and welcoming.

The Hampstead Ladies' Pond is one of several formed by the River Fleet as it flows through and under London. It is both a natural and a created space, one that feels timeless. It is nature tucked away and appreciated for its very hiddenness. The varied short essays are organized by season starting with those intrepid author swimmers who brave the cold of the pond in winter. Obviously the pond is more crowded and in demand during the summer but each of the seasons chronicled here is appealing. The reader slips into the essays the same way you'd slip into the smooth waters of the pond. Written by the famous as well as less well known authors, the essays are as different as each woman's experience swimming although each firmly places themselves in a long line of women bathing in the pond, a fellowship of women from every walk of life. As a collection, there is the unhurried importance of nature's role in creation and in the discovery of self. The essays read without any urgency, just a bucolic sense of rightness. Instead they inspire a slowing down, an examination, and an appreciation. This collection is probably best for those who can think of nothing better than sliding into the soft, magical fresh water of a pond or lake, those who love to swim "wild," but all nature enthusiasts will probably enjoy the wonder of the place just as literary readers will be pleased by the wide-ranging references. I will think about several of these gorgeous essays for a long time, especially as I bob in the ripples blown across the surface of my lake. ( )