A Lake in the Beartooths

I strip to my underwear and walk on warm rock to the edge of the lake.  My bare feet feel sandy and uncomfortable, embedded with small stones from the trail.  I step off the rock, into the lake.  Rocks are under my feet.  They are not smooth - relatively young rock not yet worn down to an eggshell surface by eons of water moving over them.  Perhaps they have simply sat at the edge of this lake for all of their life after tumbling brand-new from their mother, one of the mountains around us.
The water is cold.  I walk forward and deeper.  Shiver, as it reaches my groin and then I plunge completely in.  The water is clear, but tinged with brown, like weak tea.  I swim the freestyle towards the center of the lake and watch the floor drop quickly, then I am floating in space with nothing below me.  The sunlight penetrates the water in planes of light that reach down into the darkness of the depths of the lake, like they are reaching into infinity, swallowed by a void.  There is nothing beneath me.  Then my mind inverts, and suddenly it is as if the light is coming upwards from beneath me from forsaken depths, like angels from the eternity, like the Lady of the Lake, come to bestow me with Excalibur, Glamdring.  I turn my head to look away, because the light is maddening, but it is everywhere in the water, shining from some unknown point far below, always towards me no matter where I look.
I lift my head up above water and the quiet mountains and forest surround me, solid and impassive, a completely different world from the swirling nebula of light below.  I am caught between two worlds.  The air moves my wet hair and little waves lap my chin, but the chill of the light of the void wraps around my toes and ankles and reaches for my core.  It is invisible with my head out of water, but now that I've seen it, I can feel it as an emptiness below me.  An emptiness made of light, sitting below the surface of this lake.