Sparkle in HisEye
I open my blinds this morning after first light and I can’t help but let out a sigh of disappointment when I see the clouds. I’m not at all surprised. In fact, I would have been surprised to see blue sky. But one can always hope and I certainly had been. People complain that we don’t have seasons here in Southern California. It’s not true. At least in the coastal communities, this morning marine layer is a tell tale sign of mid-Spring and we can usually expect it to last through mid-Summer. Thankfully it is not every day and some years are more grey than others. Still, clouds or no clouds, we who live here are blessed beyond measure to enjoy this beautiful coastline.
No meetings this morning. Now there is a beautiful thing. I take advantage of the time to get some deep focus work accomplished and I am pretty happy with the results. I reach a nice stopping point about 9:00 and decide to head for the beach. That marine layer has not burned off yet but I don’t anticipate that happening any time before noon based on what I am seeing out my windows. So I might as well and get my swim in now.
I get to the parking lot and all the spaces are full in my usual section so I park on the far side of the grassy median. A swimmer I recognize is cleaning himself up after his swim and I walk over to say hi. He says the swim was great (of course), there is a bit of a swell, and there are Jelly Fish. Jelly Fish?! He explains they are not the Jelly Fish you can see but the little things that gently sting. Oh yes, I have been familiar with these and especially over the last month. The sting is fairly gentle but they come from out of nowhere which is weird. I’m told this is Jelly Fish larvae. I have no idea how reliable my sources are but no one has contested this information or offered up any competing explanations.
I head down the stairs and when I get a view of the shore, I can see that the surf has picked up from yesterday. It’s still not exactly remarkably large, but it is definitely decent. I watch a surfer ride his final wave to shore. It looks like a very nice and super fun ride. I say hi to him as he walks onto the sand and he has a sort of sparkle in his eye. That’s what the ocean does to you. People come here all fuzzy brained and leave with a sparkle in their eye. The water changes you. When you enter the ocean, you enter something far larger and more powerful than yourself. As you play in the waves, you are building a relationship with a part of nature that has been here for millions of years. We would not exist without it. The joy we receive in the water is a gift and whether one is consciously aware or not, I think we all feel a sense of gratitude when we exit. In the water we are never alone.
I get in the water and start swimming pretty soon after walking in. The tide is high and surf is larger than trivial and nothing is breaking in front of me right now so I figure I might as well swim out past the surf while the coast is clear. The water feels warmer than yesterday which is a relief. I am swimming north today to the Monarch Bay Beach Club.
It’s not long before I receive my first sting from the Jelly Fish larvae. Just a gentle charge. Over the rest of the swim I only receive another few. I still can’t help from stopping and looking at the surface of the water all around me to see if I can find any visible culprit. I don’t see anything.
The water’s surface is pretty smooth for the first third of the swim and then grows a little more rough as the breeze picks up. It is pushing me all the way to the beach club. Not long into the return journey, I see a flock of pelicans right on top of me and I immediately stop and grab my camera but I am too late. I thought I might have gotten a salvageable shot but looking at my pics after the swim, there are no signs of pelicans. Bummer. They were super cool. They always are.
About halfway across Salt Creek, this set of waves rolls in that breaks way outside. The peak of the wave is about 50 feet south of me and is breaking farther out than I am. I miss the white water from my location but not by far. I decide to aim in a more westerly direction to avoid any future collisions. I see several impressive sets between here and the lifeguard tower below the Ritz. I am wondering how my swim to shore will unfold. There is no avoiding it.
Well as is usually the case, things calm down a notch after passing the point just before Niguel Shores. I swim the rest of the distance trailing what looks like a large tourist fishing vessel that likely took off from Dana Wharf and heading back. The swim to shore is fun but mostly uneventful - just the way I like it.
