Optimism fades.

I am the intruder. I barge. I am truly ‘Der Jaeger’.  The hunter. Backyard pools are set up to be hidden from view. Privacy walls & fences abound. Heavy foliage & hedges obscure the view. Its difficult to get into a yard & see exactly what type & shape of pool is there. Many times it becomes an issue of a drive-by recon; complete with a notation of type of cars present, observing if dogs are there, etc. Then, you drive back during the workday.

Once there, you can do a quick survey & pull yourself up over the fence or wall. I always look & smell for dog crap, check for leashes, dog bones & toys or that all-familiar, dog path, worn into the grass along the edge of the fence & yard. Dogs always leave one of these….making note of them has saved my ass too many times to count. Not all dogs bark to signify that they just spotted food coming over the wall! So, you gotta be careful. Stay frosty! Once over the wall, I survey the house quickly. I am  looking for any lights on, sliding doors open, & human presence. Only then, do I check the pool.

I note the make, (ie, Blue Haven , Sunset, Paddock, Anthony, Hoams, Williams, etc),  shape, condition, etc. I shoot a digital picture from either end as well. Then, I get the fuck out of the yard, double quick! Many times, I see the familiar pulse-quickening blue tiles and white plaster glittering in the sunlight. I feel the blood thrum in my veins. I see the deathbox, the shallow stairs. Its awesome. Then, I get close & my excitement wanes. Its a cancer pit. Its a kink sink. Its too vert. The shallow is pinched. It has a jacuzzi that blocks the carve line, or a loveseat that makes the pool impossible…etc, etc. So, here is a toast (vitamin water) to those bad ones. Without the bad ones, the great ones wouldn’t be what they are. Ozzie