I wasn’t sure if I was going to swim today, but yesterday was one of the best days of the year if not THE best day in terms of weather, water visibility, and overall beach nirvana vibes. So I really could not pass up a swim today. It’s October and this might just be the last few weeks before they turn off the heater.

I leave at 10:20 and it is already over 70 degrees outside. It’s supposed to be warmer than yesterday. So far conditions are well aligned with what they were yesterday. I get out of the car and there is that sun again shining bright and warm on my skin. The water looks smooth smooth smooth.

My feet touches the sand and I feel the soft heated squish between my toes. Then the water comes up and it is cool on my feet but I’m sure it’s gonna be like yesterday - a little cool here and there but mostly warm on the surface.

Both the sky and the water are a deep, rich blue. There are a few boats out on the water and not a whole lot of humans on the beach. I don’t really understand why the beach isn’t jam packed but I’m glad it’s not.

There really isn’t any surf to speak of here. Some little one footers break on the shore but that’s about it. I step into the water and I can see the sandy floor beneath the small rising waves. Ok, maybe there are some two footers to be found here. They curl and break into my mid torso and the chill raises my attention. I lean into the water and assume full horizontal mode and start swimming.

As I swim out further, I’m not sure why it is that I feel the need to swim farther out. There certainly aren’t any waves to avoid out here. However the ocean floor, which I can actually see today, gets more interesting once past the usual surfline. There is more rocks, kelp and fish to be found out here. I also think it is a touch warmer.

I swim south today since I swam north yesterday. However I was partially tempted to repeat the north route since it was so utterly lovely yesterday. Yet I don’t doubt the south will be delightful as well.

It’s still before 11:00 and the light continues to have a morning feel to it (because it is morning). Every now and then I look down the beach and the water looks surreally smooth. I think that if Salvador Dali painted this beach it would probably look like this.

I feel like I could just swim and swim and swim here. I wonder if I can be motivated to stop at all for pictures because then I would have to stop swimming. Not long after this thought, I see this golden sliver in my periphery which is the beach at the south end of the Strand. I have no choice but to stop for a picture. Then, oh look at that! It’s a lobster trap buoy - more pictures.

I get to the cove below the Dana Point headlands. The water is so calm here. I swim just a little further out where I know there are some submerged rocks that are often the home to kelp and fish. I find a couple Garibaldi and some schools of small translucent fish here and lots of dancing kelp on the rocks.

Time to head back up north. I have the horizon in my sights and I aim to give it my full awareness. I want to immerse myself into the entirety of the experience unfolding around me. I want to see the water below me. I want to hear the water mingling with my exhaling breath. I want to feel my fingers plunge into the surface as they complete their stroke. I feel my middle right toe smack down with every kick.

I try to watch my thoughts but not get lost in them. That is not easy to do - it never is. A memory emerges and I struggle to just watch but it pulls me in and before you know it I am lost in a dream and am somewhere else and no longer in the water. Worries sing their haunting lullabies and lull me into a world where I fight against the world around me and it feels like it is fighting against me.

I lose my sense of what is real. Reason and peace are drowned out by fear. Are they irrational? I can’t even tell. What is irrational when everything is irrational?

Then I am pulled back into reality by a rope that appears in front of me. Is this rope real or metaphor? Probably both, but I can only say there it is - that’s a rope. It’s tied to a buoy on one end and a lobster cage on the other. I stop and look at the buoy and wonder if it can hold the weight of my thoughts? Can it keep them from drowning?

I tether myself to the lifeguard tower that I can see in the distance ahead of me. As I gaze in its direction, this water seems to gain extra buoyancy. I am uplifted and supported by the rich, smooth texture of the water. The light is shifting. We are approaching noon and the air seems to take on a different, midday hue.

As I continue north I drift further inshore which is totally fine. More than fine. I try to locate the familiar corridor of ocean ideal on a clear water day. It sits not far past the surfline on the northern end of the beach. It is shallow enough where I can see the detail of the bottom and the bottom is covered with rocks and kelp and sea grass.

The floor here alternates from white sand to islands of kelp covered rock. As I pass over the sand, I can see the rocks ahead like shadows until they are more than shadows. I swear it feels like the water is warmer when I pass over the rocks.

Just like the last couple swims, I don’t stop at my usual spot but keep swimming south. Today I notice myself passing the little lifeguard hut which is my cue to come to shore. There are lots of rocks here in the shallow water which is why I choose the spot further up the beach as my usual entry and exit point. However today the tide is high, the water is clear, and there are no crashing waves so I enjoy passing over these rocks. In fact the sight is pretty spectacular today. There is a large school of fish - a small dark brown fish. They just float above the sea grass as though they are suspended in some kind of see through gelatinous substance.

Once I am inshore of these rocks, I find myself in knee deep water and I lift myself up to my feet and walk to dry sand. Here is the ramp right here. If only I had all the time in the world, I would walk on on this beach for a while.

I do not have all the time in the world.