Dame Ocean is calling me with her siren song. I'm running along the water's edge at South Beach, my usual route, and gazing at the ocean eager to dive in. It's a strong feeling and a bit surprising since I've come this way probably a thousand times and not felt such a call. Since starting this swim, I've deepened my appreciation for this cool northern ocean. I've gotten below the surface, and it matters.
Funny, I knew about the value of "getting under the surface" in order to connect with oceans, but I didn't think it applied to me. I know the underwater, after all, so I thought I didn't need a deeper connection. Well, now when I run by the offshore boulders that hold the big surfperch, I can see them in my mind's eye. When I go by the salmon farm dock, I can see the swarms of fish. The fields of anemones wave at me when I go by.....etc.....etc..... All of this connects me to my local patch of ocean more strongly than ever before, and it's calling to me. M-a-a-a-r-r-r-k, come on in. Join us under the covers and roll around in a loving embrace.
The power of this swim is already getting a strong grip on me. In fact, I WANT TO GO OUT THERE RIGHT NOW, instead of sitting in my office and pumping electrons with my keyboard.
Yesterday, I ran around the corner and into the Country Club area, past the old money estates and past a bunch of new beaches I've never seen before. With this swim I'll soon be pushing into new territory, beaches I don't know and ocean that I've never seen. On my next swim or the one after that. How will it feel?
I got some advice from a gardener as I ran by, and with his blessing I slipped through a gate and past a no trespassing sign to make make my way from South Beach to Bean's Bight. Wonder how often I'll get yelled at as I try to complete my circle around the island? No matter, the pull is stronger than any worries about curmudgeons. I'll try to slip quickly through any private areas, and I'll tell them my story if I can't slip away. They'll get enthused and let me pass by, won't they?
Here are some South Beach scenes...
The pilings, where the cormorants hang out, sometimes joined by great blue herons, and rarely joined by bald eagles. The silly cormorants space themselves evenly at one wingspan apart when it's crowded, and the bigger birds get a much wider berth.
BTW, the bald eagles are definitely back for the winter, I saw a pair today out my office window, huge and magnificent as they flew over the trees, looking spunky if I can say that about birds.
Here's a couple of shots of the salmon farm, and one of the Bremerton-Seattle ferry cruising through Rich Passage.
On a clear day the Olympic mountains loom in the background behind the ferry and salmon farm. The fantastic and huge Tahoma (Mt. Ranier) is around the corner off near the end of the day 2 swim.
Thanks for stopping by, Mary, Emerald, Noelle, my niece Meghan, and you few others. And thanks for leaving notes here and over on blogfish. So long for now...