Ignorance is Bliss

Wow what a terrific swim on this Sunday before Christmas. And guess what happened while I was in the water? Fall turned into Winter! Oh wait!!…Argh! I just googled this again to be sure and I had missed the fact earlier this morning that I was looking at the time of the Winter Solstice in Eastern time. So it was not 10:03 but 7:03. Bummer, I like the idea of the transition taking place during the swim but the fact is it was Winter the whole entire time. Oh well, it was still great.

Also, is it really Winter? Because the water feels so great. I mean yeah, Summer is over. The water is not warm, but it feels so nice to me especially knowing what it usually is this time of year. It was probably about 63 degrees. On top of that it is a beautiful day. The sun is out. There is some haze on the horizon and some wispy clouds overhead but no visible threat of fog even though you just never know when that is going to show up.

I left a little before 9:30 and am just really looking forward to getting in the water and especially thinking of the solstice happening during the swim - ignorance is bliss. I get to the parking lot and it is beautiful. The ocean surface looks smooth and there is just this super positive vibe in the air. A little more people than usual are out and about since it is Sunday and I am guessing there are some out of towners here for the holiday.

I am heading down the stairs and reach the asphalt road and noticing how clear the water looks. I can see the shadows of the rocks and kelp below the surface from here which often means the water visibility will be good which makes for a little added fun in the swim. I see a small boat with a diver’s flag on it which possibly indicates that others are privy to these clear conditions.

As I walk onto the sand, a woman is pulling on her large black lab to come up the concrete ramp and away from the beach. It is clear that the lab, which looks like it could be quite young, would much rather swim in the water. He nearly drags the woman into the water and is howling with yearning to get wet. The woman eventually manages to coax the dog up the ramp. I must say I don’t blame the dog. What a great morning to get in the water. The surf is incredibly calm with lake-like conditions.

Just as I am stepping into the water, a trio of individuals are stripping down to their swim suits near the rocks and heading my way. They all run in and submerge themselves at a much faster pace than I am moving. It looks like this is some kind of pre-planned event where the three of them may be seeking to challenge themselves for a winter-time plunge. They have a reaction that gives away the fact that this is sort of a novelty for them. It looks like they are enjoying themselves.

The water right here is very clear and with the calm water and the morning sun, it is all so very peaceful and beautiful and delightful. I start to swim and the water is cool but pleasant. As I swim south, it feels like this morning and the water has a crispness to it. Not crisp as in cold but all the lines here seem punctuated and clear. The colors feel bright and pronounced. There is the freshness of a new year coming. Everything will be well. Everything is well. Everything has always been well.

I get to the south end of the beach and the water is so still. I look towards the cliffs below the headlands and it really looks like I could just keep on swimming toward the big huge face of that rock. So that’s what I do. I keep swimming until there are obvious barriers just in front of me and I take in the view to either side of me parallel to the edge of the water and the cliff. It is so pristinely beautiful and seems as though I have crossed to the other side of some boundary that separates the world that we all live in from some other place that we all knew existed but were unsure how to speak of. Here I am now on the other side. I am taking a mental note of all the things that I see so I can properly tell the others.

I want so much to keep swimming along the edge of the headlands, but I am meeting my sister and her husband for coffee and can’t really draw this out much longer so I head north to continue the swim. I make steady progress as I move along the coast and slowly inch my way further inshore along the way. I have music and thoughts of the future filling my head. They are good thoughts so I am happy to just let them all run there course. A thought of a bright future is a good thought and when they arise unsolicited, they are a gift.

Eventually I intersect with that diver’s boat. There is a guy standing on board holding a spear gun. I ask him if he has caught anything and he mentions a few calico bass but nothing worth writing home about. We talk for a minute about the weather. As we are speaking I am simultaneously noticing the beauty of the surface of the water here that is dotted with kelp leaves poking through from underneath. It is like I am treading water in the midst of fertile fields of green.

I soon stop talking to the diver and unlock my eyes from the texture of the water in front of me. I could hold the vision of this plane in front of me forever but I must move onwards. North I go to the end of the beach before it becomes another beach (Salt Creek) and then I head back and the water is so calm and still that I just swim in these two feet shallows for a good while until a wave comes just big enough to allow space for my body to easily transition to a vertical orientation.

I walk on to the the beach amidst the walkers and frolickers enjoying the morning miracle here. I expect that at any moment someone, anyone, will stop me and ask me about the wonders I witnessed on the other side so close to those cliffs. What was the light like? Were there colors different from the ones we see here? Can I remember anything of the knowledge of everything that must have flashed across my brain? No one approaches me or seems to care. Perhaps they have already been and I’m the last one to have crossed. Perhaps I should have been the one asking them all along.