As Many As I Can Get

It’s looking like a beautiful morning in Dana Point. The skies are just right. It is sunny, very sunny, but not necessarily clear. There are lots of large puffy white clouds. It looks like leftovers from yesterday’s monsoon clouds but not nearly as ominous and dramatic. It’s just enough cloud to be beautiful and interesting. So nice.

I’m out the door at 6:30 and as I set foot on the beach, I am transported into a different place and time. There is the slightest amount of haze lingering on the shore and in the northern hills over Laguna. The shadow of the cliff on the eastern edge of the beach falls softly on the sand that shines golden on just the other edge of the shade that is bare thanks to the low tide. The ocean looks gentle. Not a lot of surf happening today - similar to yesterday. The water looks smooth with just a bit of texture to it. And it is that tint of blue that wants to settle into your insides and leave you with the hope that it will never leave.

I walk to the water. I might just be the first person of the day to enter in because I don’t see anyone else. The water is warm. I swim south and the sun is just starting to crest over the bluff. There are soft, large, white clouds surrounding the light. This is all so exquisite and peaceful. I keep swimming south and the sun continues to rise. At this point I just don’t think it is going to stop. Well, I think we’d all be in big trouble if it did.

When I get to the southern end of the beach, it looks like someone has put up a big blue tarp on the rocks below the headlands which is a popular fishing spot. We are in a bit of a heat wave here and I suppose they are getting ready for the day’s heat. Well this is the first time I have ever seen someone do this here but is seems like a good idea even if it is a bit of an eyesore.

I turn around to head to the north end of the beach. The water and sky blend together so perfectly. I swim through kelp forests that form a sort of barrier in the water that is dark on one side and blue and filled with light on the other. I love skirting along the edge of the kelp and staring at the sunlight hitting the leaves just beneath the surface.

I pause and there are a couple boats offshore of me and a single red buoy about 300 feet north of me that sits like some kind of homing beacon in the middle of a great blue and desolate wilderness. I soon pass that buoy and then struggle to make out the northern bathrooms, which serve as my turnaround point, through the glare. I take off my goggles for a minute and things kind of fall into focus. Those bathrooms are still nestled in the shade of the bluff and the entire beach in front of them glows gold.

I turn around for the last time and finish up the swim. It’s so great and I have to wonder just how many more days like this we have before us. This week’s forecast looks pretty promising. I’ll take as many as I can get.