Do Clouds Even Exist?

Nothing quite compares to that first cup, or rather that first taste, of coffee after coming home from a swim. Even though it’s after 2:00 in the afternoon, it might as well be 7 AM. You hold the cup and it’s as if the cup was specifically designed for your own unique hand. The weight of a full cup provides that promise of plenty. You can hear the cup saying, take as much as you want and then take some more. And it’s warm - so warm.

Then the liquid hits your lips just before dropping into your mouth and there is a tiny explosion as the flavor makes initial contact with your tongue that takes temporary ownership of your entire brain. For just a moment, you are somewhere else. Or is it that you are so incredibly present as it gives you the illusion that you must be somewhere else because wherever you were before was not the same as where you are right now.

And now my cup is empty. Not to worry! I have at least two more in the pot.

I left for the beach at noon today. Conditions were too foggy this morning and I needed to be around to help my wife with our son before they left for the weekend.

By the time I left, the sun was just coming out at my house but based on what I was seeing from the web cams, the marine layer was still over the beach.

As I am making my way onto PCH just above the Doubletree, I can see the marine layer bank hovering over northern Dana Point. It feels so warm inside my car and the sky is pure blue directly above me, that marine layer ahead seems like it must be some kind of optical illusion. Do clouds even exist anymore?

Approaching Selva and heading directly into the white mist, I am reminded that indeed they do. Now I wonder if I will ever see the sun again. Spoiler alert: I will.

I get to the parking lot and the water looks bumpy but it’s no victory at sea or anything like that. The air is warm even if it is dim.

Heading down the stairs, a surfer coming up wishes me a good swim and I ask him how it was. He says the water has chilled a bit.

We have had steady west winds all week which has caused some upwelling (where the deeper and colder water is driven to the shallower beach) and Surfline is now reporting a water temperature of 66 degrees. I have to remember that my April self would have considered this to be downright sultry.

I reach the beach and things do look a bit on the dreary side here. The water is quite noticeably cooler than Tuesday. Still, it’s not bad.

I get into the water, walk to the edge of the surf, dive beneath a wave as my goggles slide down my face and I get two eye fulls of salt water which has never killed anybody (a fact I have not researched).

Yep it’s definitely cooler but I would not say that I am cold. I get moving and I feel damn good.

I feel the water pushing me from behind as I swim south down the beach. There is water everywhere. I’m in the ocean after all, but what I mean is that it is pouring into every facial orifice as the afternoon’s breezy conditions splash the water into my face. This all just reminds me that I am alive.

I pause to wipe the fog from my goggles and have a quick look around me. It’s not the dreamy summer day one hopes for at the beach but it is good and I am very glad that I am here.

When I reach the southern end of the beach just below the cliffs at the Dana Point headlands, I gaze north and wonder if there is any chance that these clouds could burn off before I am done. It looks possible. I can see the glowing orb of the sun directly above me through the clouds. It is psychically communicating with me that it wants to break through. But is desire enough?

I turn around and head north and the water is getting more agitated. I stare towards the horizon and varying shades of grey and black bob and bounce all over the surface of the ocean.

At one point I swear that I see fins in my periphery. I stop and search west but I see nothing. It must have been a mirage.

I swim and swim and swim and lose confidence that we are going to see any more blue in the sky before I am done.

When I reach the northern end of my swim I can see blue sky through a thin film of mist hovering in the gap between the Ritz and the hills over Laguna Niguel. It’s like I can reach out my hand and touch summer but then realize it is just too far away.

I make my last 180 degree pivot and head back and then I see it. It is definitely not a mirage this time. That was a fin! It appeared about 20 feet inshore of me. I stop to look and verify and I see another one. It is black and it is only the fin that I can see and briefly at that. Then I hear the unmistakable huffing exhale of a dolphin. It sounds like it is so very close but especially with this chop in the water, I know that I’m just not going to see much. It is still a magical feeling to know that I am so close to these magnificent creatures.

I finish up and come to shore. Dreary as it might seem here, I feel far from dreary. It is warm and the thin coating of ocean water that remains on my skin feels good.

When I get back to the parking lot, I take a rinse off shower. I read recently that you only need a shower every few days so why not just get the salt off here and save my time when I get home that it takes for a full shower. That’s fine while the water is north of 60 degrees. Come late fall, I will definitely want a hot shower.

As I drive out of the parking lot, I almost immediately pass out of the shadow of the marine layer and into unadulterated sunshine and again I wonder, do clouds even exist anymore?