18/11/2016 by Carl Reynolds
Been working too much lately in places not conducive to swimming. An immersion in the sea was needed. The morning sky was staggering in its majesty.
Bright sunshine to be found on the other side of the grey. Blue always above and beyond that, the stuff of dreams and fifty years of circulating space junk.
On my walk to the beach, noticing ever colder hands in the sudden drop of temperature, I wondered at what effect looking at such skies, on a daily basis, might have on the local residents.
Does it make them more enlightened, more in awe of their place in the universe, happy to see such daily sights and be more generous of spirit than those living with a concrete horizon the other side of the street? Or do you become blasé about beauty, reducing it to commonplace because you have forgotten to take a moment and wonder.
And so, eventually, down to the steps with cold hands, cooling feet and the high tide lapping up and over the steps.
I am cold in just my cossie. I fear the temperature of the water will turn me back. But I am surprised as my feet go in how warm it is. The contrast is high. I pause down the steps to put the goggles on and am in. Slow crawl across, pause to take it all in, some back stroke, some butterfly, more crawl. I am cold and not cold. Some way to go before I will be numb on exit. And, after a gap of a week or so, delighted by the saltiness of it, the soft focus sea bed…and the seal popping up to investigate. I am sufficiently revived.