Crack in the Horizon
I left the house at about 8:45. I’m hoping to get to the water before the forecasted wind picks up somewhat dramatically (8-10 knots). The skies are mostly cloudy. It was more clear earlier in the morning but now it definitely is not. Also, these clouds have a bit more bulk to the ones we had yesterday which truly makes the day feel cloudy.
As I pass Doheny on the way to the Strand, the water looks quite glassy, and when I arrive at the parking lot, the water looks smooth here as well and I don’t sense any significant breeze. Also, despite the clouds, it’s pretty comfy out here in just trunks. As I walk down the stairs I can see the lines of waves rolling in to shore. It’s not big and I can’t see anything breaking from up top but it’s not flat here either.
When I step on to the beach, I look south toward Dana Point and it looks like there is a red firey crack in the horizon where there is a clearing in the clouds and the sun’s light indirectly breaks through and reflects on the immediately surrounding cloud cover. It is very pretty.
The water looks super smooth. I walk out and I don’t know where the surf went but there is nothing here now. I do see some waves breaking to either side of me but nothing in front of me. I’m angling south west and the water feels pretty good. It feels somewhere between what I had early Sunday morning and yesterday’s later morning swim. Nothing to complain about in December.
I don’t stop at all between the start of the swim and the south turn around point. When I stop at the end of the beach, I can feel the water warm around me from my body heat. Everything feels quiet and still. It is like the calm before the storm because I think it is the calm before the storm that is supposed to come tonight.
I head north and I need to constantly correct my trajectory as I seem to want to veer seaward. I look up and see the hills of Laguna but I want to see the Salt Creek lifeguard tower. The water is darker today - probably due to the cloud cover. I stare down into a dark green that becomes black. Here and there I see a branch of kelp rising from this abyss.
When I started the swim there was a small patch of blue sky just offshore over the ocean. I expected that patch to become covered over by the time the swim ended figuring that the day will only grow gloomier. However about half way back up the beach, I can feel the glow of sunlight penetrating the water and the whole attitude of this place changes. The wind has picked up and it’s not too fierce at all but perhaps it is moving the clouds around.
There is much more light when I finish the swim and much more exposed blue sky. I figure this is a very transitory state of affairs but embrace it while it is here. I see some fish hanging out on the ocean floor in the thigh deep shallows here.
As I pass the lifeguard station, a lifeguard is doing some handy work and asks me how the swim was. We both comment on the December water temperature and he guesses it is a byproduct of the La Nina season.
Even though I didn’t feel quite as warm in the water as I did yesterday, today I have full sensation in all of my fingers and my phone fingerprint reader reads my finger on my first swipe. I like the direction this day is heading.
