When the new semester comes it will be May. Lilac will leap over the old walls and tree blossoms will well up in the secret gardens—and you will enter the old gate in a light summer dress. Summer evenings will come into your room and toll the quiet serenity of our life into your young soul. Soon they will awaken—the flowers your dear hands will pick, and the moss on the forest floor that you will walk on in your blissful dreams.

And soon, on a solitary cilmb, I will greet the mountains whose rocky stillness will meet you someday, and in its lines what I have kept of your essence will return. And I will visit the alpine lake, and look down from the steepest steepness of the precipice into its silent depths.
—  Martin Heidegger [to Hannah Arendt], Letters: 1925-1975: Hannah Arendt & Martin Heidegger

Pavlov would have understood the desire to broach the high barriers of humanity’s gaudy above-ground poolsides to float, removed from the tedium of land, on air and water.