Updated: Mar 1, 2020
It’s been weather worthy of June today, sunshine, deep blue skies and a warm gentle breeze. Twinkling turquoise seas and a pretty little sailing boat, it’s white sail perfect against the shades of blues and greens. It slowly and silently made it’s way around the tip of Tresco and up the channel towards Green Bay. I wonder where it’s come from? Maybe lands afar with tales of sea monsters and mermaids and endless days at sea.
So gentle this little sailing boat seemed, in no rush to be anywhere.
It reminds me to slow down, to stop and absorb the world around me.
I take my time walking down the beach, slowly and gently. My feet sink into warm sand, the tiny shells and pebbles press into the soft underside of my feet. The coldness of the silky water wraps itself through my toes and over my ankles. Slowly creeps up my calf, my knees and thighs…and then I’m in. Each step into the water is a step into a free world of coolness and wildness and bliss.
Crabs scuttle along the seabed. No jellyfish seen today. Further out across the bay, past other little sailing boats and punts, bobbing buoys on weed covered ropes. Here begins the strong pull of the incoming tide as it floods into the channel from the southward end.
A free ride, I swim with the tide towards Bar. Underneath me I can see the weeds flowing along the sand. I reach the Bar and put my feet into the shallow water, like anchors, to stop me being swept around and down towards the North.
My feet drag through the sand and the current is so strong it rolls and swirls over my arms like a green river, making whirlpools and bubbles in my wake.
It’s with a good strong swim I make my way back up along the coast towards the shelter of the quay. Around the forests of weed are pools of warm water and washes of cold as the incoming tide mixes with the sunwarmed low water.
I know I will sleep well tonight, as I always do after a wild swim, with a great sense of satisfaction in taking time to slow down, be gentle, feel the environment and go with the flow.