Not Real

Definitely a different day today from my last swim on Sunday. Sunday was so great that I wanted to get out again on Monday which was a beautiful morning, but I was not able to leave until after 10:00. As I was approaching Coast Highway near Capo Beach, I could see a fog bank hanging out offshore. At Doheny it was even more noticeable and sure seemed close to The Strand around the point. Then as I passed the point and began to approach the Strands turn off on Selva, it just seemed impossibly close. I snuck a peek at the web cam just before turning left off PCH and I could still see the beach plainly on the cam. Well ok, it must just look worse from here than it really is. That happens all the time. Once inside the parking lot, it was obviously socked in. What is going on? I refresh the cam on my phone and sure enough, there is nothing to see but an empty grey canvas. All I could do was go back home.

I have not seen the sun again since then until I got down to the beach this morning. Oh I did have to drive to Laguna Hills on Tuesday and I saw it once I got about a mile inland. It was a surprise to see it today. The morning here was overcast but there were some hints of blue through some creases in the cloud cover. I left for the beach a little after 9:15 and once I reached the parking lot, there were some large gaps of blue sky over the water. Truly a welcome sight.

The water looks dark and bumpy. There is a light north west wind at play right now that is supposed to grow stronger this afternoon and into tomorrow. As I descend the stairs, I am wondering what the tide situation is going to be like. It is coming down from a 5.6 high and is about 5.2ish now. Given the sand loss in the last couple weeks, that could possibly cover the entire beach, but when I get a view of the shore, there is a thin strip of walkable sand in front of the rocks so no need for concern. I set down my pack and make my way into the water. It looks like there is some actual surf today. It is not too big but tomorrow is supposed to be well overhead. Once I’m just a few steps in, I start to swim since the high tide provides plenty of depth. It is in between sets of waves and I don’t need to dive under a single wave before I clear the surfless surfline.

It feels about the same temperature as my last swim. Oh let’s not kid ourselves - it’s colder. I don’t have Sunday’s warmth over the water and there is not that same feeling of summery delight and the sumptuously warm patches. Still, it is a delight to be out here. There are dramatic clouds over the bluff that stop at the water. Then to the west there is another cloud bank on the horizon and covering Catalina Island which you can clearly see today.

The water is definitely moving the same direction as I am. I can feel an intermittent pulse of energy move me forward. I’m surprised when I see the familiar “clubhouse” in the community here half way down the beach. It seems like I just started swimming. Not much later and here I am at the end of the beach. I’m much closer inshore to my rock that my previous lower tide swims. With the deeper water I don’t have to contend with the breaking waves. I linger here and take in the 360 degree view around me. I just love the clouds and although I love swimming in a clean and smooth ocean, I do enjoy staring at the the well defined texture of the surface today.

It’s time to turn around and just as I begin to head north, I see a wave approaching. Wait…is it breaking? It is! It’s a big wave but it just crumbles forward and I dive below the white water with no drama. Now I am swimming into the current. There is also some westward moving energy finding its way into my face. The swim north is not violent or even a slog but it is slightly disorienting with views of the horizon few and far between.

Yup it is definitely colder today. Not too much and I try to just relax my body into it. As I do this I feel as though I am flexing or exercising some hidden muscle that needs the exercise. It’s a muscle that can let go of anxiety at will. A muscle that is able to choose equanimity over distress. I watch thoughts roll through my mind like passing clouds that do disturb me but the cold water somehow eases their impact. The water puts a buffer between me and the energy of the thought. These thoughts are memories and fears of things I regret and things that I worry will come to pass. But right here, they seem so far away and I question if they are even real. Then I realize, no, they are not real.

Half way up the beach I see a bird approaching and I stop to take a picture as it makes a turn. I think it is a Pelican but looking at the picture after the swim, it looks like some kind of alien. After close inspection I see it is a Pelican but at a really weird angle. I keep swimming. Am I moving or making any headway? I must be because I watch large vines of kelp drift below and are soon behind me. I play games with myself to see how long I can swim without looking up to see where I am or where I am heading. With all of this water sloshing about, who even knows? Eventually I can’t bear the suspense and I look up and there is the Ritz like an unmovable anchor. It’s getting larger and larger.

Eventually I am literally stuck in a clump of kelp branches and look around and am pleased to see how close I am to the bathrooms, my final turnaround point. I am almost there. I remove my camera from my trunks which has become attached to a vine of kelp and free myself from this tangled mass.

Now I am at the northern end and I can hear surfers surfing the surf and they seem pleased. I can also hear some casual conversation but can’t make out any actual words. I turn around and start what feels like a quick swim south back to my takeoff point. I see something below me. At first it looks like a large fish but not nearly as large as a dolphin. There it is again and it is zipping this way and that. Oh it’s a seal. Cool. I stop to see if I can get a better look and it is gone.

Soon I am at the end and I’m in waist deep water about 50 feet from shore. I walk the rest of the way being mindful of rocks but don’t really see any. I come to shore and grab my pack and then cross paths with a small group of walkers. They ask me if I was the swimmer out past the waves and I say that I was but I’m struggling to annunciate. I find myself uttering random thoughts. There is some idea or stream of consciousness that I feel compelled to communicate but once words pass from my lips they seem almost unrecognizable. Would they be alarmed if I attempted a Vulcan mind meld? Hmm…maybe not good idea.