The morning is still, no wind, no noise or force against my body, simply still. I walk across the hard, sandy-packed ground of Rushy green, where the tiny plants, barely a few millimetres tall, have become perfectly adapted to their environment.
In their centres are tiny hairs designed to catch even the smallest amount of dew, a lifeline in a potential arid situation.
A carpet of Hot and Tot Fig, with stary spikes, is prickling up from the ground like pointy fingers. Their firework bursts of flowers are not yet in bloom.
I reach the place I've chosen to swim, Stony Porth. Well named with its endless stretch of granite pebbles, smooth and rounded from a lifetime with the sea.
It makes me wonder if I will be smooth and rounded after a lifetime with the sea too. Maybe that's what the sea does to you and to life, smooths and rounds it?
I certainly feel smooth and calm this morning. I've let go of the worry, what will be will be and right now, in this moment in time, I am healthy, safe and peaceful. What more can I ask.
The clouded sky is pocketed with holes where blue sky and sunshine peep through. Just enough heat is allowed to escape to warm my skin against the cool air.
The water however is icy cold and snatches at my breath as I sink into its silky-cool stillness. It feels so good to be back here after winter, this is not a place to swim during those wild winter storms. I am hoping to have the company of a seal or two but a small head briefly surfacing far out into the bay is all I see. It appears I am alone.