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It's still a fabulous luxury to live next to the sea. Of course I swim in it, whenever it's not too rough for comfort, it's part of the joy of being here, sculling idly along in the blue pellucid waters. I have a feeling today will be my last of the year though, it's getting cooler now and the forecast for the next week or so is dire. 'You'll be swimming on Christmas Day' says Mr B. I won't, I think, no masochist me.
There's a cave across the bay at the bottom of the cliff, where the crashing of the waves has been eroding a week spot for millennia. It's sufficiently far away that I'd been unsure if I could swim it, and even less sure about the return leg, and you can't get to it by land as it's at the bottom of a precipitous drop. It had been calling me, tempting me, since my arrival. So as it was millpond-calm, and probably my last swim of the year, I left my good sense on the shore & headed out to it. Nihil gloriae sine fortitudinem.
It was fine, distance is difficult to judge across water and I got there without event. Entering the cave though was a different matter. It was dark and getting darker as I swam into it, it was noticeably colder, I couldn't see the back of the cave or the sides. My primary sense being now useless, and not being on the relative safety of dry land, some primal instinct thrust itself with some urgency to the front of my brain. I became suddenly and acutely aware that multi-legged and betentacled horrors were almost certainly coming at me from the depths below my feet, and perhaps even more terrifying, down from the roof of
the cave above. I didn't linger.
4.30pm, 22 degrees
There's a cave across the bay at the bottom of the cliff, where the crashing of the waves has been eroding a week spot for millennia. It's sufficiently far away that I'd been unsure if I could swim it, and even less sure about the return leg, and you can't get to it by land as it's at the bottom of a precipitous drop. It had been calling me, tempting me, since my arrival. So as it was millpond-calm, and probably my last swim of the year, I left my good sense on the shore & headed out to it. Nihil gloriae sine fortitudinem.
It was fine, distance is difficult to judge across water and I got there without event. Entering the cave though was a different matter. It was dark and getting darker as I swam into it, it was noticeably colder, I couldn't see the back of the cave or the sides. My primary sense being now useless, and not being on the relative safety of dry land, some primal instinct thrust itself with some urgency to the front of my brain. I became suddenly and acutely aware that multi-legged and betentacled horrors were almost certainly coming at me from the depths below my feet, and perhaps even more terrifying, down from the roof of
the cave above. I didn't linger.
4.30pm, 22 degrees