I woke up to heavy fog at my house this morning at 6:30. I realized it could be a good while before things cleared up at the beach. The sun burned off the fog pretty quickly here at home and most other places more than a few hundred feet from the water. I started with a run down to capo beach state park over to poche beach and then back home through shorecliffs. Heading down to capo beach on Palisades I could see the fog covering Dana Point just North of the harbor like a thick blanket.

After the run, by 9:30, things were still completely socked in at the beach. I did my Saturday errands and chores. Finally at about 12:30 I could see the sun breaking through the Strand. By 1:15 it looked like things had burned off for good and I headed for the beach.

When I got to the beach conditions looked great. It was sunny and warm and while there was certainly some bump on the water’s surface, it was fairly mellow. Lots of people here enjoying what has turned out to be a beautiful day. The water feels about the same as it did yesterday - colder then earlier this week but comfortable. The surf is down a couple notches from yesterday and the water just looks beautiful. Coming down the stairs you could pick out the different shades of blue showing off the patches of kelp and rocks in the darker spots.

As I hit the water and made my way past the waves and began my journey South, the magic sets in. It is such a beautiful day, the water is so nice and this all just feels so great. I feel inundated with good vibes in the water. I arrive at the southern turn around and pause to take in the beauty. The cliffs are a vibrant shade of tan dropping into the white break water. Even though the beach is crowded, there is no one out here and it is utterly peaceful. As I am taking this in, a bird emerges from beneath the water with what is probably its lunch or at least one of many afternoon snacks.

I head North now and just let myself bask in this summer afternoon swim. The Northern push takes a bit more effort and includes more water ingestion than the Southern swim. Yet it all feels great. I’m chasing the edges of these feelings and looking to where they break into the liminal space lying in between the next. How do I navigate the paradox of observing and also participating? Who observes and who participates?

I get to my round, orange buoy friend Bob Marley and swim just a little farther and then turn around and head back to where I began. The wait for the fog to burn off was well worth it.