Smugglers cove

The best accomplice ever – the enthusiastic researcher.

Now we know – don’t plan – all we need to do is get there. Will it be rough? How cold? Forget that, its sunrise, it will be perfect.

Our whispers echo on the rock carved smugglers tunnel.

Opening out onto pure unsullied bronze sand and a copper sunrise. Sea birds pierce the water membrane. Leathery seaweed litters the sand.

Looking back to my last sea swim two weeks ago it was 15 degrees then – so I reckon 13 degrees now.

I’m on the cusp of learning – with winter swimming – never look back.

Strip off, walk in, reach out to the sunrise. The contrast with yesterday’s peaty river currents – just one degree warmer at 9 degrees, so much floatier.

Now for my accomplice. Implausible with the age gap – I’ve started to feel maternal pride for her. She takes it further than yesterday. I love adventurous fast learners.

Excited dog walkers want to know how it feels. They tell of fairytale pools on the moors with slimy natural rock water chutes. We wish we had another day for that rush. We’re not careful what we wish for.

The salty chill is part of us now and forever. Every shell and drip of cliff filtered spring water is registered crystal clear in our minds. We don’t have to worry about the past – we’ve got it. We never need to look back – we are free to be curious about the future.

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