Showing Up

I leave at about 10 minutes after 7:00. Skies are the same as they have been for the past few days - overcast. Dana Point definitely has its fill of overcast mornings especially from late Spring to early Fall. I try to remember the overcast mornings from when I was a kid and I do not remember so many. I’m sure this is because I grew up in San Juan Capistrano which is the next town inland of Dana Point and is therefore going to be sunnier.

This is unfortunate for my childhood self which was much more fond of cloudy skies than I am today. I remember lying in my bed in the morning and watching the shadows of my blinds cast onto my walls. The fewer the shadows, the happier I would be because that meant less sun. It was always disappointing when the clouds would burn off later in the day. Now I am the opposite. The more sun the better and this is a change that has just taken place about 7 years ago.

What is it about light and heat that affects our moods? There is some kind of a shift in mindset that takes place when the luminosity surpasses a certain threshold. Is it some memory or set of memories one associates with a certain exposure level to light? I try to remember those days (and there were many) when I found the cloudy days so comforting. I can even remember my spirits lifting after the sun would set and feeling a sort of relief that the intensity of the light was finally fading. What was the trigger? Did I have some kind of platonic ideal or image of what I imagined to be soothing and nurturing in dim light? Or did I just find the sun to be abrasive and overpowering? It’s all like trying to remember a dream. I can’t place the correlation of emotion and light but I know it exists.

Today I find the sun to be this life giving source of warmth and goodness that penetrates the pores on my skin and fills my insides and illuminates my heart and mind. This all began with my spiritual awakening that began over 8 years ago. By the way, I don’t at all consider myself spiritually awakened but I am at least trying to move through life with my eyes open.

Anyways, aren’t I supposed to be writing about my swim? I digress. So I get to the beach parking lot and the water is smooth. Not necessarily still but certainly more calm than it was yesterday. I head down the stairs and it is peaceful and calm and wonderful on the shore. There are pelicans and gulls I see flying over the water and everything is hushed. The waves from Narda have not showed up yet - that’s for sure. The ocean is still like a lake this morning. I expect that to change by tomorrow morning because that is what Surfline says so it must be true.

I get in the water. It feels the same as yesterday except that I’m not starting off in a cold patch like I did yesterday. The water feels cool but pleasant enough. It is cool enough that I am aware of the coolness but not uncomfortably so. I swim south and gaze at the shore and watch the 20 million dollar houses smoothly pass across my field of vision. I enter a warm patch and pause to enjoy it and look around in all directions. This is all good stuff. Sun or no sun it is great to be here and I wonder how it is that I am the only one in the water.

I make it to the south end of the beach and there are a couple surfers hanging out here though it doesn’t look like there is all that much to surf. The water visibility is not quite as clear as yesterday, but above the surface things sure do look nice. I look out to the end of the point and see all the small rock outcroppings dotting the distance. Then I see a huge long line of pelicans flying across these rocks southward. They rise up and then descend back to the surface and they all look like a sort of roller coaster track above the water. Soon they pass out of sight around the corner of the point. I wonder where they are going. Are they going far or are they just going to hang out on the harbor jetty? Maybe they want to get good seats for the Ohana Music Festival happening this weekend.

I head back north and just focus my energy into my arms and legs and move them with just enough might to give me the sense that I am working at a moderate level of intensity. It feels good to be moving here in the water. I try to feel the water moving around and over me and the friction as it crosses over my skin. I take note of every dip and rise in temperature. I stop a couple of times to take a picture or two. It always feels like I am taking the exact same pictures. I am but I am not. You just never know what you are going to capture here. Something is always happening. A Cormorant plunges onto the surface of the water out of the corner of my eye and I immediately halt and reach for my camera. I take a few of it sitting on the water. They look like miniature swans when they are sitting still on the water. Then it flies away and I am frustrated that my camera is still processing the last photo I took before it is ready to take another by which time that bird is gone gone gone.

Once I am near the northern end, I see an out rigger paddler rowing by me. We are close enough to say hello to each other. He is in a bright green boat and all by himself. Often they come in packs of 20 which is always exciting. I watch him heading north and veering offshore to avoid the pack of surfers hanging out in front of the lifeguard tower. I turn around here and head back to my finishing point.

About two thirds to the end I stop and a flock of pelicans comes super close. This is always immensely exciting to me. Especially when I can see them coming my way and just know I will be ready to grab a photo just as they are passing by. It doesn’t happen often but it seems to happen more often than it used to because I have gotten better at this. Timing is everything. It also helps that I am here so often. Just by virtue of showing up every other day, you are bound to get some good shots sooner than later. So the birds arrive and they are beautiful and then I see something rise from underneath the surface of the water. It’s a seal. Oh it is so cute. It looks right at me as if to say, “hey did you see those pelicans too? So cool!” I say hello to him and then he goes back below. I put my goggles back on and look for him underneath the water but never see him again.

I finish up the swim and eventually find myself in about 18 inches of water and I lie on my back side as a small little wave comes in and I attempt to photograph it. I’m excited because the wave has this perfect curl to it and the lip is so clear and beautiful. I get back to my car and examine the photo. A blurry picture of the bubbly underbelly of that wave. I’m telling you it is all about just showing up and taking picture after picture. I’m bound to get a good one eventually.