The Fountain Dancers

I still don't know what the hell happened.

Not the best way to start a recount of a moment in my life but I've no other way to tell it. I have no idea what the hell I saw one day in February of this year. Well, that isn't entirely true. I do know what I saw and that's about all I can give you.

So, to begin. It was Friday afternoon in Old Towne Orange. I had just come from my shift at the library, had lunch and was reading Don Quixote in the park. It was a nice day, there was a calm breeze in the still chill air and for once the Circle was quiet of all the cars dangerously driving through the roundabout. There weren't many people at the park, maybe a few couples scattered around. I would occasionally glance up to watch birds flying through the flowering Jacaranda trees, the beautiful citrus scent of the few orange trees was comforting and familiar. It was a very poetic setting. Idyllic, beautiful, complete with a babbling fountain in the center and gentle winds.

It seemed obvious then that the ballerinas would arrive.

Suddenly, in the span of a few minutes, the park was surrounded by beautiful young woman dressed in shorts and comfortable shirts, stretching and practicing their moves. A few of them performed whole dances while others just laughed and had fun. There didn't seem to be an order to this majestic madness, I don't recall seeing any teacher, (or photographer, for that matter) just thirty or so young women dancing for the hell of it. It was all very fun and---on my end---rather awkward, but then one of them stepped into the fountain.

She was in the fountain, the water dancing beside her, and she did her whole routine. Graceful, gentle, precise and beautiful, she was danced. Not noticing anyone staring at her, not caring what her friends thought, simply dancing; here and now, long golden hair flowing, awake and alive in that moment. It wasn't long until another joined her. Together they made such sweet melodies in that old spring. Then another came and another and another till all of them were in the water, dancing and laughing.

I watched them for a few minutes, awed for some reason by this sight. Then, as if by some order, they got out of the water, still laughing, still happy and free, and they left. I sat in my bench, thinking: What the hell did I just see?

I don't know. I simply know that it was pure, it was beautiful and it was moving.

As a side note: something that struck me about them was how quiet they were. Yes they laughed and yes they splashed the water but they never spoke. Not once. Very odd.


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