The surface was calm, almost smug. Sunlight rippled on the water like it had nothing to be hidden. I leaned on the ladder, proud and tired. My battle with the pool was over, or so I thought.
I had shocked it, brushed it, begged it to behave. The water glimmered like forgiveness, and I believed it. But beneath the sparkle, my pool was plotting.
The First Sign of Hidden Trouble
It started with a smell I pretended not to notice. Slightly chemical, slightly guilty. I ignored it the way you ignore a text you’re not ready to answer.
Two days later, the water dulled. Not cloudy, just… tired. I skimmed leaves halfheartedly, promising to vacuum tomorrow. Tomorrow came and went.
What I Overlooked
- I hadn’t checked pH in a week.
- I didn’t backwash because the filter “looked fine.”
- I told myself rainwater couldn’t hurt.
My pool was patient. It let me believe the lie until the bottom grew a green shadow I couldn’t unsee.
The Confession
I knelt at the edge, staring at the smear of algae like it was a personal betrayal. I whispered apologies. The pool said nothing. Its silence was heavy, like it was enjoying my guilt.
I pulled out the test kit, hands shaking like a detective about to open a case file. The pH sneered at me from the strip. The chlorine barely registered. My so-called victory was a joke.
Redemption in Chlorine and Elbow Grease
The redemption arc was messy.
- Brushed every wall until my shoulders ached.
- Backwashed the filter three times.
- Balanced pH, alkalinity, and calcium like they were fragile secrets.
- Shocked the pool and waited, guilty and hopeful.
Hours passed. Slowly, the water brightened. Bubbles rose from the returns like little apologies.
My Love Letter to the Pool
Dear Pool,
I doubted you. I ignored you. I believed your surface when I should have listened to your heart your filter, your pH, your balance.
But I learned.
You are honest only to those who pay attention. Neglect you, and you will hide your anger until it blooms in green and guilt.
Moral of the Story
Hidden problems in pools are like unspoken arguments. You can pretend everything is fine, but sooner or later, the truth floats up. Maintenance is love. Testing is respect. Brushing is forgiveness.
Case closed, until the next storm rolls in.
