I Can Enter the Water Whenever I Want

Heading back to the beach at about 10:45 this morning. The sun is starting to come out and there is a nice mix of large dramatic cloud cover and wide expanses of blue sky. It is actually starting to feel sunny. I have debated over whether to swim today or tomorrow. I love a Friday swim (tomorrow) but conditions are forecasted to be windy tomorrow and so far today is so so nice and calm.

I get to the parking lot and I reach for my backpack as I exit my car and then I realize that I really don’t need the backpack today. I only bring it for times when I feel semi-hypothermic exiting the water and need to towel off and put on clothes before proceeding any further. I used to do that after every sub-60 degree swim but I think I have only used it once or twice this year. Water is probably 60 today and I can’t imagine needing the towel and clothes in that pack today. So I leave it.

It feels good to head down the stairs with only my goggles and camera - free and unencumbered. And oh yeah, the sun is shining right on the skin on my back. So good.

I get to the beach and I’m excited to get in the water. It is turning out to be a beautiful day. There is so much blue sky out. The water is smooth and clear. It feels cold but I know that coldness is going to drop away shortly after the swim begins. So lets get started. No need to deal with my pack and clothes today. I can enter the water whenever I want.

I walk into the water and find the sandy path between the rocks and eventually get to the surf and take a couple pictures as the waves break over me and wonder how those will turn out. Who knows? I can never tell which side of the water the photo will capture.

Well I’m wet now - might as well proceed. I’m swimming north today and looking forward to starring at some beach that I have not stared at for a while. The water feels good and is pretty clear. There are cool spots and warmer spots. The warmer spots feel great and the cooler spots are not all that cold.

As I pass the main surf break in front of the Ritz, I can feel the waves roll under me. I’m pretty close to the surfers and not far at all from where the waves are breaking. It’s fun to glide up and over the crest of these waves and then watch the clouds of sand below the water rush through the dancing kelp like some kind of slow motion desert wind storm.

I feel like the ocean is trying to tell me something. I always feel like the ocean is trying to tell me something. It is always silent yet not silent but I feel like I just can’t hear what it is saying. I think I am trying to hear with the wrong ears as if I am looking for words and concrete ideas. I suspect the ocean speaks a different kind of language. A language of feelings and sensations. Can I learn to listen and comprehend that? I hope so and it’s a large part of why I am here.

I swim all the way past the last Salt Creek bathrooms and golf course sand pits (is that what they call them?). It feels so great out here. With this sun shining, it almost feels like summer and the water is so blue and clear.

As I swim back, I notice that the tone and timbre subtly change over the return voyage. The cloud cover that was once well inland has started to creep toward the water. I now see cool plumes of cloud exploding over the Monarch Beach Club. Eventually this day loses its sunny feeling and it grows dreary. However I don’t feel dreary. It’s all great and it’s like getting two swim days for the price of one. One is sunny and the other cloudy.

I pass back past the surf break again and then over the point and into Strands territory. I chase shadow after shadow after shadow below the surface. They slide beneath me like islands.

Soon it is time to finish the swim and I point myself toward the shore and eventually see sand practically right in front of my face. I just keep swimming until it is ridiculously shallow and then I stand in shin deep water.

Well that was great and even though the day has turned overcast, it still feels pretty warm and windless. As I pass the big Jupiter rock and climb up onto the concrete, I am surrounded by these 1 to 2 foot balancing rock stacks. Someone was hard at work here earlier this morning.