A Solid Signal

It’s a later start today at about 10:45. I’ve been looking forward to this swim all morning since I got up and noticed the clear sky. It was so warm and nice out when my son and I walked the dogs at 9:00. Then I kept getting pulled into stuff at work as I am watching the wind on the web cams stir up the water more and more. Finally I am good to go. What harm is in a little wind? Conditions seem pretty much perfect otherwise.

As I head out onto Golden Lantern, I see what looks like it could be fog or just some hazy/cloud buildup coming from the north/north east. However, this looks sort of brownish and I am wondering if this is smoke from a local fire and not cloud activity. Heading towards Selva, I think this is definitely smoke coming from what looks like Laguna. There is a layer of haze lining the western horizon over the ocean that looks dark and sooty. I still don’t see any news coverage about local fires so who knows what’s going on.

As I park my car in the parking lot, I can sense the light subtly fade in and out as faint and hazy clouds pass overhead. This is just barely visible. In fact I’m hardly sure it is even visible. It registers more internally than externally. I feel it more in my mood than the light, but I know it is the light. I also know I’m not crazy. Well…within about a 90-99 percent probability range. I am always willing to allow for a small buffer of the chance for insanity.

I head down the stairs to the beach and I can feel the breeze in the air and see the bump on the water. It could be a rough ride today. That’s totally ok. It’s a warm and beautiful day. Sometimes a little bump is just what I need to clear out the dust, and there is indeed dust. It builds up fast and sometimes it’s just impossible to keep up with.

The tide is coming down from a 5.5 high. There is a solitary woman hanging out in the water right at my usual take off location so I pick a spot just a little further south from her to keep things from getting weird. The water feels just a little cooler than it has been at first but once I have been swimming for about 20 seconds, it feels just about its usual pleasantness.

I swim north and I’m bobbing on the surface of the water being tossed this way and that by the wakes coming out of what looks like the north west. Due to the late start, I’m feeling a little hungry but not necessarily ravenous. I try to keep my mind off of my stomach and on the elements directly surrounding me. I wonder just how much resistance this current is providing. How long will it take me to get to the Monarch Bay Beach Club I wonder. I’m just going to keep swimming north and keep a periodic eye on the club and I’m sure I will get there when I get there. I know this to be an absolute fact.

I try to focus on the water in my immediate surroundings. The sound of my breath and splashing arms and legs seems loud. The line that runs along the surface of the water parallel to the length of my face is all scribbled this way and that. There is snowy static inside of my head. I just can’t get a solid signal into my thoughts. I’m swimming through an extended fever dream. I see faces in my memory that randomly come and go. They are accompanied by sort of half-feelings. I can only access a fogged up glimpse into the story behind the images, but I know there is a full story behind each one.

This mish mash of thought and emotion is annoying. I feel like something is hidden that is meant to be revealed. Just how far do I have to swim to find it? Is it floating further off shore tangled in the kelp? Did that Cormorant snatch it as it heads to God only knows where? Is it around the point up ahead somewhere on the beach at Three Arch Bay? How can I be expected to investigate every wake and every cove?

It’s as if my whole self is scattered over the surface of the water and all I can do is swim and gather every stray piece that I come across to reassemble some semblance of myself.