are you drawn to water?

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I had no idea this was an autism thing, just heard it mentioned on a TV show. I have always been drawn to water: lakes, streams, rivers, the sea. I love the sound, the crashing waves and find it mesmerising to watch.

I was interested in Penguins as long as I can remember, When I was a Toddler, It was nemo, Then Posiden when I was seven. You can see how it progress right. All, my Major special interest that lasted for a few years are water based.

I've more so been interested in the sensation of water rather than have water-based interests.
I've always loved the feel and sound of splashing water. I used to love those water trays when I was little. I loved baths and showers as well (although nowadays I don't take baths anymore as I feel tired and all wrinkly afterwards).
Whenever I go to the beaches in Scotland and the weather's nice enough, I like to take my shoes off and have a paddle or a wade in the sea.

My older brother (who is neurotypical) is fascinated with underwater life. He studies Marine Biology at uni as a matter of fact.

I've been drawn to water since I was really little. I love the feel of it and the colour of it. I used to go to an indoor pool once a week, until one time that I almost didn't make it to the washroom on time which happens a lot. I settle for watching swimming on the Olympics and walking in heavy rain these days.

I actually get driven away by water, as I was traumatized during childhood (do I even have one?) by an incident related to falling in a public adults' swimming pool. Not sure why your poll doesn't have the option "I hate water" by the way.

One of the most famous passages in all of American literature (I'll let you figure out what it's from):

Circumambulate the city [of Manhattan] of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon. Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip, and from thence, by Whitehall northward. What do you see? -- Posted like silent sentinels all around the town, stand thousands upon thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean reveries. Some leaning against the spiles; some seated upon the pier-heads; some looking over the bulwarks of ships from China; some high aloft in the rigging, as if striving to get a still better seaward peep. But these are all landsmen; of week days pent up in lath and plaster -- tied to counters, nailed to benches, clinched to desks. How then is this? Are the green fields gone? What do they here?

But look! here come more crowds, pacing straight for the water, and seemingly bound for a dive. Strange! Nothing will content them but the extremest limit of the land; loitering under the shady lee of yonder warehouses will not suffice. No. They must get just as nigh the water as they possibly can without falling in. And there they stand -- miles of them -- leagues. Inlanders all, they come from lanes and alleys, streets and avenues, -- north, east, south, and west. Yet here they all unite. Tell me, does the magnetic virtue of the needles of the compasses of all those ships attract them thither?

Once more. Say, you are in the country; in some high land of lakes. Take almost any path you please, and ten to one it carries you down in a dale, and leaves you there by a pool in the stream. There is magic in it. Let the most absent-minded of men be plunged in his deepest reveries -- stand that man on his legs, set his feet a-going, and he will infallibly lead you to water, if water there be in all that region. Should you ever be athirst in the great American desert, try this experiment, if your caravan happen to be supplied with a metaphysical professor. Yes, as every one knows, meditation and water are wedded for ever.

But here is an artist. He desires to paint you the dreamiest, shadiest, quietest, most enchanting bit of romantic landscape in all the valley of the Saco. What is the chief element he employs? There stand his trees, each with a hollow trunk, as if a hermit and a crucifix were within; and here sleeps his meadow, and there sleep his cattle; and up from yonder cottage goes a sleepy smoke. Deep into distant woodlands winds a mazy way, reaching to overlapping spurs of mountains bathed in their hill-side blue. But though the picture lies thus tranced, and though this pine-tree shakes down its sighs like leaves upon this shepherd's head, yet all were vain, unless the shepherd's eye were fixed upon the magic stream before him. Go visit the Prairies in June, when for scores on scores of miles you wade knee-deep among Tiger-lilies -- what is the one charm wanting? -- Water -- there is not a drop of water there! Were Niagara but a cataract of sand, would you travel your thousand miles to see it? Why did the poor poet of Tennessee, upon suddenly receiving two handfuls of silver, deliberate whether to buy him a coat, which he sadly needed, or invest his money in a pedestrian trip to Rockaway Beach? Why is almost every robust healthy boy with a robust healthy soul in him, at some time or other crazy to go to sea? Why upon your first voyage as a passenger, did you yourself feel such a mystical vibration, when first told that you and your ship were now out of sight of land? Why did the old Persians hold the sea holy? Why did the Greeks give it a separate deity, and own brother of Jove? Surely all this is not without meaning. And still deeper the meaning of that story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting, mild image he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. But that same image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans. It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the key to it all.

I love to swim. ^^ And playing in shallow water, too.

Always. And a couple of years ago I moved to a peninsula and I've been so happy with being surrounded by water. The sea long the west coast and a very wide river surrounding the north and east. I love walking along the shores so much. And love all the seagulls and barking seals and all the ducks and geese. Love all the boats and ships. I love riding on the local ferry. I could stay on it all day.

I am always drawn to watery places.

Since I was young, on warmer days, I got myself into the habit of going for a swim in whatever I was wearing. Since I don't wear shorts, I began to like swimming with my clothes on, often in pants and t-shirt.

Even when I was 16 years old my Mum let me swim with my jeans on, I always went in the water with my legs covered up. It was as long as my jeans were old, I had nothing in my pockets then I was allowed to swim with them on. I liked wearing my t-shirt while swimming only if I had my pants on, my legs covered up, because my Mum used to make me swim with my t-shirt on so I didn't get sun burnt.

I get drawn to watery spots all the time. I'll only go for a swim if the water is safe, warm enough to do so and clean, I like getting my clothes wet.

I love water, especially watching bubbling streams, but I was kind of embarissed in the past through looking at them because it is not the "Normal" thing to do.
However, since I have found out that I may be on the spectrum, I give myself an excuse to go and have a look, and there are some massively beautiful places that have water that I visit. One is near a shop. I love going there. It is soo relaxing and exciting.

Of course plenty of people are drawn to water. I do feel I have a particularly strong attachment to water though. I have always found interesting water features fascinating. A cascade or waterfall, for example.

The universal human ideal is a home on a hill overlooking water. My parents were water lovers, so I grew up swimming and boating. Later, I moved from lakeside city to one on an ocean peninsula, but just enjoyed the view. Then, I had to do some testing on a kayak I'd been working on, and was on the water for several minutes checking my work before I registered the novelty of my situation. I stayed in the boat business for years, but never really understood the customers' motivations.

Happiness is paddling a canoe on a river. I love water. I am drawn to water. I live in a swamp.