Glorious sunshine on the beach and early morning heavenly swims.
There is of course a downside to living in this picturesque, supposedly trendy seaside town. And that is the sudden arrival of cars, visitors, noise and litter. It is just part of the package, I know... mostly quiet for nine months of the year and then overcrowded for the warm weeks. It just feels like a shock each year to my sensitive, nature loving soul. I crave peace as much as I crave sleep, food and dark chocolate. During
our long lockdowns, I think my body has reset itself to enjoy the emptiness of our roads and beach. Now things have become busy again I feel rather like my friend's "lockdown puppy"
that now barks at the slightest noise and disturbance. Not that I've
yet to start howling, although I feel close to this at times. My heart also sinks as I notice that some people come to the beach and ruin it with toxic barbecue smoke and disruptive music. I long to tell them all to connect with nature just as it is and to enjoy the clean, salty fresh air and relaxing sound of the waves. It is already perfect here, why disturb this?
In order to find my moment of peace and calm in the sea, I have become an early morning swimmer for the first time. As I opened my eyes each morning this week, woken by cracks of sunlight, my first thought has been the sea. I could almost hear the waves beckoning me to emerge from my sleep into the peaceful, empty waters. This morning it was 7.30 am as I crunched my way over the shingle to the water's edge. There was grey in the sky for the first time, providing coolness and a scattering of rain. The morning sea is always cooler, which still appeals as a refreshing, invigorating part of the experience.
As I looked around, I was not totally alone. Three Herring Gulls were waiting for me as I swam out past the groynes and I could hear the quiet chatter of two local swimmers along the beach. A paddle-boarder passed me, gliding effortless (or so it appeared) out to sea. In these warmer waters I can swim a little further out and head to the jetty, a short distance away. The swim there was easy, assisted by the current which made me feel like I was almost gliding like the paddle-board. As I turned to come back, I realised the deceptively calm sea was still moving strongly. It felt like I swam about a hundred strokes to just travel five metres. But in the warmth of these summer seas, my body felt more mermaid-like and awake rather than tingling with cold.When I checked the temperature of the water, it was around 15 ℃. I wondered if it felt more like a warm bath because I have acclimatised through winter swimming? I then watched someone slowly easing themselves into the sea, gasping and shrieking for at least a couple of minutes! Does it really feel that cold to the novice swimmer I thought? Having swum every other day through the whole winter (including frost and snow) summer swimming is very different. There is less physical challenge obviously and no need for long warm-up sessions with hot drinks afterwards. But it still feels good, refreshing and freeing to be in the sea. Maybe we all need a moment of calm connection to nature each day wherever we are. Especially in these continuing uncertain times.
"I enjoyed reading about summer swimming and how different it is to your winter dips"
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