A picnic table glistening with water might signify a washed out lunch for some people, but today it represents the difference between plants and animals dying or making it through this long, dry summer. Waking up this morning to the first spits of rain on the roof was a real blessing. And, I carried this sense of blessing down to the beach for swim #117 as I gazed out at the gently breaking greenish surf under a continuous grey blanket of cloud feeling a wonderful sense of relief. Floating like the storm clumps of broken seaweed found around me and gazing directly into and onto the surface spatterings of gentle rain drops, time lulled sleepily everywhere. Today, the recreational aspect of swimming that had been the norm during the summer's "perfect" weather, was replaced with a deeper experience; a more ritualized, meditative immersion of body into water.
Posted by Peter Adams at 10:49 AM. Filed under: The Swim •
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