While the music continues you explore. You realize the shifting, tangible veil. Swimming in the rain means each stroke pushes you through another layer in a water blind; you are in a room whose walls you'll never find. You learn the vastness of the sky that mirrors your lake. You learn the solitary tread of staying alive, staying afloat--movement. Your body relaxes and remembers itself. You spread and contract and feel vast in this water. You learn the smallness of yourself in the world.
And just as suddenly as you feel like you've never been anything but part of this orchestra, and this world, the rain stops and you are again filled with the other sounds--the everyday sounds. You see your friend who has shared these moments with you, you smile because she knows too.