A first chance to indulge in the yearly baptism of the mighty, salty sea. The blue sky stretches from one chalky white headland to the other, like a huge shield that protects from the emptiness of space. Though covered with a slight veil of diffused light, the colour is reflected in the pale emerald green water, and wafting strands of clean, dark brown seaweed float harmlessly to provide “necklaces” for small children playing in the shallows.

It seemed cold, as it always is at the first dip, but the skin easily acclimatizes. Three short trips into the water brought on the final decision to swim to a long metal pole sticking up out of the sea, just off the shore. Striking out, swimming against a low heave, brought the usual growing sense of panic, as thoughts grew wild about what might be underneath.

Concentrating on the sunshine, the glorious surface and not on imaginations wild with outrageous pictures, kept the stress level in easy control. It seemed forever to reach the marker pole, and touching it, headed back to the shore. Let’s go again, it isn’t that far…

The delight of feeling the freedom of the water as it’s gentle healing qualities take a hold of the mind and the burdens of the human psyche are laid to rest in the deep dark seabed, just as the soul rests it’s troubles on it’s Maker.

On reaching the pole the second time, a previously unnoticed ledge was there to stand on. Grabbing the pole and scrambling up, small, clinging barnacles tore the skin quite badly on fingers, arms and leg, damages unnoticed in the cool water. Standing on the ledge, a view of the beach was panoramic, and received wounds, not felt.

Only on the beach could the realization be known. Blood bright and watery ran down, but the pain was masked by the anesthetic and disinfectant qualities of the water. A third trip came to mind, but perhaps I should pace myself….

Not many pictures, as I just wanted to enjoy and forget…