The water alternates between deep emerald and dark Prussian blue. The sweep of the headlands appears as a giant circle, almost completed by the distant presence of the Isle of Wight.

As I set out across the water, I stretched out brown hands, like Autumn leaves in a sea of soft rotating moss. It was a dream, easy and pleasant, yet the farther out I went, the fear of the deep ripped at my mind. I remembered the the waters belong to God and all that are in them. Reason dispelled anxiety.

I swam across the sea-front to a buoy marker and turned and swam back, feeling more comfortable the more I swam. There is a freedom to swimming in the sea, in that there appears to be no bonds, or restraints, and any direction will bring new vistas and outlooks. Returning was not at all tiring, and in the shallows, wallowed for a while, feeling strong and triumphant.