Florida Water
Nothing quite like those smells or flavors that send you back in time right away, without warning, to times that are so central to your being that you don’t think about them. I’ve been visiting my childhood town the last few days and the tap water has been a powerful time machine.
It’s hard to describe, and harder to account, for why central Florida’s water has such a distinct taste, texture, and smell. Some smell it as chlorine, others smell it as some kind of additive - maybe from the limestone that makes up much of Florida’s geography? Perhaps it is sulfur from the ground, beneath our feet here is the famous Florida aquifer, an underground system of rivers and pools beneath us that takes in whatever we pour on the ground due to the porous stone between us. The feeling of it is that it is very hard, not willing to take out or take on other chemicals, soap, shampoo, etc off of you but it does so very well. Showering after swimming in a chlorine-treated pool however doesn’t give you confidence that you have wiped away the chemicals. It feels that you have taken a dip in a poorly maintained swimming pool right after one that is perfectly treated.
The taste is somewhat neutral, but you feel that there’s something coming with the water into you. There’s something there that defies the taste of just water. The feeling is that of a stowaway. Something is hitching a ride. I noticed this yesterday during lunch at a local restaurant where the water we were served was much different than the tap I drank all morning at the house. It was somehow lighter, less too it, no hidden agenda. It’s very strange to feel something is mixed into your water but you can’t taste or see it. What could it be?
These feelings are based on the need to treat the public water in many ways due to Florida’s sunny and warm climate. Year round I’m sure there are algae concerns as well as the bane of public water systems, cryptosporidium - a nasty parasite that is very difficult to kill. The weather is enjoyed here by many creatures; it’s not the private property that humans believe it is.
This water, with all the imperfections and weirdness that perhaps raised your eyebrows or puckered your mouth as you read is the water of my youth. After arriving from the airport, I went to brush my teeth (as is my tradition in travel, who knows why) and the smell transported me without consent to a number of childhood moments, all at different times but all at once, that were so immediate, unmediated that I felt deeply connected to this tap water as if meeting an old relative I had not seen in years and didn’t expect to meet again.
There’s not a good word for when comfort and discomfort come so close together you cannot distinguish them - I’ve been looking in the OED this morning and historical sources. Perhaps I’m not at the top of my research game. The sun is out, the weather is hot, and the pool beckons. It’s a saltwater pool, a more natural and environmentally friendly, and perhaps healthier for the body than the chlorine pools I played in as a child. It’s a new experience swimming in one. The post-swim shower here, however, is a much more familiar aquatic experience.