All traces of yesterday’s storm were gone this morning, except for the flotsam and jetsam bobbing around on top of the water. The air quality wasn’t looking great; a murky brown haze clung to the city when I arrived at the Albany Bulb.
But the water was luxuriously flat; silky ribbons of silver, green and blue rippling up and down the bay. I was solo this morning for the first time in a while and I wasn’t sure how I felt. Nerves jangled around in my belly as I considered a list of things that could go wrong. But once I was in, the worries dissolved. The familiar water of the Albany Bulb buoyed and revived me as it always does.
Also, I wasn’t really alone. The orange floaties of the 8 am swimmers winked in the distance; arms reached for the sky and then disappeared, reached and disappeared, and I recognized Kauchik’s distinct butterfly stroke. Behind me, a group of paddle boarders glided along on the glassy surface.
The alone-but-not-alone feeling was lovely; it felt like an opportunity to marinate in the quiet beauty of the warm morning from the safety of a comfortable, little cocoon.