A Pool at the Top of a Waterfall

On a warm day in Yosemite, we parked the car along the road across from a 30 ft. waterfall — as I remember — and clambered up the rocks on either side to the top. There the water pooled in a perfect basin carved out of granite before spilling out of a pitcher's spout and over. The pool was just 15 ft. across and perhaps 8 or 10 feet deep. We took off our jeans and shirts and jumped in. Into water that felt like it had been snow about 15 minutes before. I came up and gave a walrus' roar and shook my head. Off came my rimless glasses and sank to the bottom, where a stray ray of sun produced a dim sparkle. Deprived of my lenses I couldn't hope to find them in the depths, but Henry dove, growing smaller, or so I remember. Then he was swimming up, breaking the surface with a huff, my glasses clasped in his hand.