It is late autumn.

The sky, periwinkle blue and the air, crisp and clear. Swept clean by the same brisk breeze whipping the sea surface into choppy white horses.

Still, out of the breeze’s direct path the sun radiates the full force of its warmth. Perhaps too much so. Thoughts turn to the rock pool.

After changing into my swim suit, I head off.

If nothing else, I think, if the water is too cold, I’d at least have a cardio-vascular work-out just walking up that mega-steep hill.

And having climbed that hill, I then descend a steep incline of road. End of the road is a small car park. No vehicles are parked there. Nor do I see any other signs of humans about.

Looks like I’m going to have the pool all to myself.

I descend the flights of steps which hug the cliff face. First reveal of the rock pool and all is quiet. Just the incoming tide hitting the rocks on the outer perimeter of the pool, sometimes to spill over and ruffle the water’s surface.

Hmm…that looks chilly.

I remember the seasonal irony of swimming in the ocean. In the spring and summer, the water still has its winter’s chill. But come autumn, when there is a definite chill in the air, the ocean’s temperature is usually at its warmest.

I step into the water.


I retreat and contemplate whether it is too cold. I decide to try again. This time, the water feels warmer than the chilly air.

I take another step, then another. And the water level is now thigh deep.

May as well just get it over and done with!

I dive in.

Habitual behaviour takes over and I begin to swim.

I’m not sure how many laps I swam before I became aware of my surroundings. I was being watched. And photographed. First by one couple and then another.

Good grief! Still, each to their own.

I consider getting out.

Soon, but not yet. I’m enjoying this.

Focussing my mind inwards, I consider the pleasurable within the moment. Fluidity of movement pushes the onlookers outside of mind.

And on I swim.

Copyright Jo 2014

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