Threshing Floor

I left for the beach at about 10:45 this morning. Not long before, at around 9, I was seriously wondering if the sun would be coming out any time soon. Then just an hour later, things seemed to be burning off pretty quickly. Just before I left, even though the Strands web cam does not show the sky, you could tell the sun was shining from the golden glow reflecting off of the ocean surface and also from the sliver of sand on the edge of the image. The Salt Creek web cams, which do include some horizon, confirm this.

Heading toward “downtown” Dana Point, the cloud bank looks like it is on the other side of the hills that border the north side of Crown Valley Pkwy in Laguna Niguel. As I pass Doheny, it is definitely predominately sunny here. There are some wispy islands of leftover condensation creating a sort of silver shadow over isolated patches of the water.

Arriving at the Strand which tends to be consistently slower to burn off than Doheny, it is a similar story: mostly blue sky with a hint of marine haze on the edges that looks as though it will disappear at any moment.

There is a pretty good breeze blowing though and the water looks pretty darn bumpy - more so than yesterday even though I am here 90 minutes earlier.

The closer I get to the beach as I walk down the stairs, the choppier the water looks. Well, some days are clean and glassy and other days not so much. I’m just gonna have to take what today is giving me.

No lifeguard on duty yet - I’ll just have to take my chances.

I get in the water and begin to head south. It definitely feels colder today with just a little bit of a bite to it. It is not hypothermic by any means and I am comfortable enough. Every now and then I pass through a warmer patch and am reminded that it is still summer.

No doubt about it this water is aggressive today. The current is moving south and for the first 20 minutes of the swim I have that advantage pushing me forward.

Then it is time to turn around and it feels like the ocean surface has taken it personally that I have decided to swim north. It feels like a fight all the way. Wake after wake after wake pushes into my head and face. Occasionally they push themselves beneath me and lift my torso up into the air leaving me to slap back down onto the surface. This is a combination of exhilarating and exhausting.

I get lost in this turbulence. I confuse the fight against the water with various struggles I experience out of the water. I reflect on a conversation I had last night and I can’t separate the words and feelings from the white water that makes contact with my face just as I attempt to take a breath. I’m in a tug of war between the present and future - trying to stay in this moment but anticipating the cessation of this effort. Veer to the future and it feels like it moves further and further away, give way to the present and I am met with a sensation of vertigo like looking into the sky while spinning in place.

I look for solace and just find a mish mash of water and mental energy. Two boats cross each other just outside of me and their wakes intensify this commotion. I gauge my trajectory and it seems I am drifting further from shore. I try to keep myself aimed slightly inland. Will I ever get to the northern end? Part of me demands that I increase my effort and brute force my way to the finish. Another voice suggests that I relax. Why should today be any different from the last several hundred swims where I indeed succeed at reaching the end. Just trust the momentum of my stroke and the ability of this water to sustain me.

And now just look! I made it. There are the bathrooms that seemed like they would never ever get closer and here they are.

I turn around and the brief final south bound leg goes by quickly. Suddenly I realize this will all be over soon and I wish I could linger here a bit longer.

The beach feels a bit more densely populated than it was when I started and the energy of the people enjoying the shore break is contagious. What just happened out there? Was I beaten up or was I cleansed of the chaff that had accumulated between swims - the water working me like a winnowing fork clears the threshing floor.

I wade in the inner surf and let myself be rolled and tossed by an incoming set of waves. Finally I right myself in chest high water just as a final wave pushes me to my feet and suddenly the water is at my knees.

I walk up the stairs and realize the world is just as I left it. When I get to the top I look out at the ocean and wonder if it is the same one I just swam in.