The sky has greyed over and it looks like there will be no sunset today, which is a shame after the lovely sunny day we’ve had.
The fine polished pebbles slide under my feet as I crunch down Slapton ‘Sands’ and step cautiously through the foam left by the crashing waves. though they are not big for here. From experience the bottom suddenly drops away so I am rather surprised to find instead that today it is heaped in a series of ridges; I step forward and the water is at my chest, yet the next step and it is only mid-thigh again.
It’s getting dark, it’s a bit rough, now it’s raining and I’m by myself, well apart from the dog walkers staring in surprise at the crazy swimmer. I’m not planning on going too far out but there is evidently a current at work here and further out is where I’m going. The water is ever so clear though.
The rain turns torrential. The clouds overhead are the 51st shade of grey, a grey that is almost, but not quite, black. Meanwhile the horizon in all directions has become a sunset halo of reflected light and away down the coast the light of Start Point has begun its nightly ritual.
Swimming back in I find the beach is now deserted, even the people further along the way under the fishing umbrella have thrown in the towel. Speaking of which there are 2 towels and the makings of coffee in the van, oh, and soft ginger cookies. But not until I’ve peeled off the wetsuit and gone in for an al fresco sploosh.
Who’s the crazy one now you dog walkers? I have towels and coffee, you’ll have to drive home in soggy clothes with the heaters on full blast and just remember how bad warm, wet dog smells. Crazy I am, mad, not!
Man look at that rain.
My 100 Swims South-West Google map.