Mid morning and rolling grey clouds shift ominously above my head. It threatens rain, a keen easterly wind whipping the world around me into a wild scurry.

Ferns once lush and tall now lay beaten and battered on the tracks by yesterday's blustery weather.

I head for the quay. I've not swum here for a very long time, choosing instead the calm, tranquil and endless horizons of the western coast.

Today, with this summer storm in the air, I feel a little wild and edgy too. I long to feel that submersive and exhilarating fizz in my blood as I plunge into the grey-blue chop.

The quay is busy. The launch unloading supplies to the islands, the men of Bryher carrying boxes and parcels from the ship to the waiting room. It has the atmosphere of industry and normality.

I sit, patiently watching, waiting, knowing that the tide is slowly coming in and it won't be long before I'm taking the leap. The first spit of rain hits my cheek and in the distance St Marys begins to sink into a grey sweep of rain.

The leap is as good as I hoped it would be; cold, bubbly and fun. The waves push and pull, slap and swirl, moving me like flotsam in the swell. What can I say...bliss.

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