I don’t have any early morning meetings today but last night I was on the fence as to whether or not to swim early or late. I like to swim early and have my whole day ahead of me but I’d also love to wait for the overcast to clear and there is also something to be said for coming back in the afternoon and just having to work a few hours before the weekend. This morning I wake up and Mother Nature decides to bless us with clear skies. This makes my quandary not so much of a quandary. I’m out of the house at about 10 minutes after 6:00.

It is a beautiful morning. There are some clouds hanging out over the water and on the horizon but the skies are mostly blue and there is lots of light. As I pass Doheny on the way to Strands, the surface is calm as can be and it just looks lovely as the stand up paddle boarders glide over the water.

As soon as I park, I know the proverbial clock is ticking. I do have an 8:30 meeting with my boss and there should be JUST enough time to be back in time to get dressed before the meeting as long as I remain “on task.” I head down the stairs at a light jog. I’ve been down these same stairs a few times before so I’m pretty sure I have seen all there is to see. What I do see in my hurry is very appealing and despite my hurry, there is an immense sense of peace here.

It’s mid tide just under two feet. The surf seems to just get smaller every day and it was small a week ago. It is nearly flat right now. Water temps on the buoys have not moved much since my last swim and as I make contact with the ocean, it does feel about the same as my last swim - cool but pretty comfortable.

I’m taking a few pics as I walk into deeper water and there is really no bad angle to shoot. The blue on the water and in the sky and the clouds all seem alive. If this were a deserted island that one was to find themselves stranded upon, I can imagine thinking that there are worse things that can happen - at least until I got hungry or cold or approached by a rabid Sea Lion.

The in shore water is clear and I appreciate that I can spy my surroundings for sting rays without needing to shuffle my feet. I let my weight fall forward and start swimming south. The water is indeed cool but not bad at all. I am content with my immediate habitat.

As I look towards the main point of Dana Point, I see a largish boat just rounding the bend on its way north from the harbor. From my current perspective, it looks like it is just hugging the cliffs. It must be moving at a good pace because in just a few minutes, it has past me and heading into Salt Creek.

As I breathe to my left on the shore side, I can see the sun just poking over the bluff. Then a minute later it is hidden again as the bluff slightly rises and then soon afterwards there it is again to stay.

Every few minutes I keep my eye on the headlands to check my trajectory since it is hard to gauge by the shore with the sun in my face. Those cliffs always look nice but look especially great right now. I’m trying to figure out why it is that this morning sun light makes it look other worldly. It is as if no other place exists but this place. I pause to take in this view. I hear a huffing sound and immediately scan for dolphins. It was probably my own exhale.

I’m close now to the south end and the light quickly shifts as I swim into the shade of the cliffs. I stop at my usual turn around point just past the big rock. Everything looks cool.

As I swim north, it feels like the water is getting warmer. I honestly don’t know if it is me or the water. There is one isolated spot I pass through where the water feels like it suddenly climbs to 80 degrees. It even smells different. Then it gradually fades but seems to remain just a notch warmer than it had been to this point.

I keep swimming. I drift further off shore and lose sight of the ocean floor. There is just blue below and around me. I watch stray clumps of seaweed float by every once and a while. There is a sizable thin layer of cloud just above me. One moment it feels like I have progressed deep into it and then it looks like it has floated further north of me before it is close once again.

I am nearing the north end and can see a spot of warm golden glow on the sand just below the northern bathrooms surrounded by shade. I look north and I can see a similar glow permeating the entire Salt Creek shore. It is just a thin strip like the yellow brick road. It periodically gets covered by the oncoming waves but the swell is so mellow today that I can see more northern shore than usual.

I swim over some kelp and I can see a couple bass hanging out in the leaves. I dive down to get closer and think I can hear squeaks. Again I scan for dolphins but I suspect maybe this is my own strained throat noises as I hold my breath and struggle to gain depth. Anyways…no dolphins.

I can’t tell if I have hit my turn around point or if I am just shy. I see some other swimmers heading back south about 75 feet in shore of me. I swim just a little further to be extra sure I get full credit for this swim. I turn around and swim at a slight diagonal to point more shoreward. As I get closer to shore, the water gets colder. I suspect this explains the warmer water on the second half of the swim since I have been quite a ways from shore. Soon the floor becomes visible and it looks like a dessert landscape with the grooves that run along the sand.

I keep aiming for the little lifeguard station at the bottom of the asphalt. The surf is so gentle and the tide is high enough that I don’t worry about rocks. I hit landfall just shy of the ramp. The Friday morning swim crew is just gathering their things and we greet each other. Apparently they saw dolphins right at the point in front of the Ritz. Lucky them! It makes me wonder if those sounds I heard really were dolphins. They can be super stealthy.

I resume my hurried pace and jog up the stairs. It feels like someone left some hot water in the tank because the shower water is downright warm. I get to my car and download my photos as I drive. I’m home by 8:20 and in good time to get ready for my meeting.