Criss and Cross

I left at about 9:15 and, like yesterday, skies are completely overcast. In fact, there is a small chance of rain today. When I get to the beach parking lot, the water looks like it has more texture to it that it did yesterday. This is expected since there is already a 7 knot south wind blowing.

I head down the stairs. I run into a gentleman from the Sunday swim crew even though today is Friday. He has walking clothes on so I don’t recognize him at first without his swim gear. He says the water is about 65 which aligns with what I felt yesterday. As I walk down the asphalt road just above the shore, I see the “hammer guy” who I see every now and again. He is heading right for me and I say hello. He says hi back and I see this as my opportunity to ask him about the hammers. I passed him on the stairs a couple months ago and asked him how much they weigh and he completely ignored me. I assumed he had ear buds blocking my voice but I wasn’t sure if it was that or if he had some policy about not talking to strangers. Well he just talked to me now and I ask him how much they weigh (they are big). He says they are 25 pounds and we talk for just a little bit and he is very friendly. Ok. I guess it must have been the ear buds last time.

With the cloud cover it is kind of dark here on the beach. The surface of the water is beautiful. It is a sort of light blue but filled with all sorts of different colors coming through from the clear water below. Water clarity has been good this week and today is the best so far. If only we had some sun to provide more light to see things with. Oh well. This is quite nice and I am fully satisfied.

Surf might be up a touch but that is a big “might.” It is still small stuff but that is set to change this weekend and early next week with the incoming effects of hurricane Narda due to hit SoCal beaches. I’m really not a fan of bigger surf so I might take Sunday and Monday off.

I get in the water and head on out. With the small waves, I don’t have to head far. I take a little jump forward and start swimming south. The water feels very much colder than yesterday for the first couple minutes. Then I swim into a sort of clearing where visibility dramatically improves and, along with it, the temperature rises. That’s pretty much that. The rest of the swim feels close to what it was yesterday. It’s definitely no warmer but maybe no colder either.

I’m swimming against the current. There is some turbulence but it’s not too bad. Honestly it is pretty enjoyable. I can feel the wind blowing the water, stirred by my moving arms and legs, over my upper back, neck and head. It’s all so vibrant and alive right here. I have a clear view of the ocean floor here and as I reach the south end of the beach, the landscape subtly changes. The sandy patches seem more sandy and the protruding rocks are more pronounced. In the immediate area of my big rock, which is also my turnaround point, there are schools of small translucent fish swimming near the surface.

I don’t know what it is about the clouds and the tone of the day’s light but it really brings out the color of the big rock cliff that the headlands sit on. I often find this fascinating. Every day is different here. On any given swim, this exact same view point can look vastly different and evoke a completely different mood. It only takes the subtlest change to have a significant effect. I can’t explain it. Maybe it is because I am here so often and have grown to notice these things. To someone else, yesterday and today may look nearly identical but not to me. It might look similar but there is a distinct shift in the the way the water reflects the light and the way the clouds reveal detail and color. Yesterday looked more realistic and today has a more painterly (is that a word?) effect. I like both.

There is a good mix of terns, cormorants, and pelicans in the air. I wonder what they think, if anything, of one another. I wonder if they feel love in any similar way to how we do. When a flock of pelicans is flying in formation, do they feel a comradery for each other? When a pair of cormorants flutter over the surface of the water do they feel any sense of devotion for one another? As the terns circle high and low and cross each other’s paths, do they enjoy one another’s company? I choose to believe that they do. And hey look. Here comes a single solitary pelican flying right in my direction. I snap a photo when we are at our closest point. I wonder what the birds think of me.

I start to swim north towards the lifeguard tower at Salt Creek. I’m watching the feeling of the water on my skin. I’m paying attention to the feeling of the coolness. I focus in on the sense of feeling itself. What is it that feels? Perhaps it is my most authentic self. The feelings come without any agenda to impress. We invest so much of our lives to hide from feelings and push them out of the way. Then we learn that we have become separated from something that was at the core of our being and we feel disconnected not only from ourselves but from everything else. Then we reinvest in trying to reconnect with our feelings and it’s not so easy going. This is something I really like about swimming in the ocean. The feeling of being in the water is so starkly present. There is no denying the feeling. As the temperature rises and falls in a single swim, it is not difficult to detect. I try to use these feelings in the water as the end of a rope that I can find and then follow to deeper feelings that I have left behind. It is like a lobster buoy I find and I hope to see what lies in the cage it is tethered to at the bottom of the ocean.

So I just super concentrate on every sensation I feel in the water, both subtle and obvious. What are these sensations connected to? They are not isolated, solitary entities. They are tied up in a tangled web. There are so many strands that criss and cross that one can’t easily be identified without its relationship to the other. The web cannot be decoded with words and ideas but it helps to try. I plunge deep into the web. I am caught and cannot find its center because if there are no boundaries, then there is no center.

I’m not swimming any faster or with any extra effort but I am moving at jet speed as I move with the current. It seems like I get to the other end of the beach in no time. I’m fairly close to shore and just in front of the northern restrooms. I turn around one last time and emerge from the water just in front of the little lifeguard station at the base of the asphalt road. I look down both ends of the beach and the view is exquisite. So strikingly different from yesterday. I don’t know. Is it what I am seeing or is it me, the one who is seeing it that has changed?