Back in the bay where remnants from the storm were evident in the flotsam and jetsam bobbing around on the dark, murky water. Arwen, Sheila, Colleen, Angie, and I swam early when the beach was nearly deserted and the morning was just beginning.

Sheila pointed out that it seemed saltier than usual and I agreed (we shouldn’t know this; we should have been keeping our mouths firmly shut in case of pollution from yesterday’s rain run off. Oh well, wish us luck). It’s one of the fun aspects of swimming in an estuary that the salinity changes from day to day.

Today it felt thick, salty, and dense. Pea soup, Angie called it. Not quite as pleasant as it sometimes is, but it sure looks lovely in the photos. Metallic green and gray, shimmering and still. The clouds were low and layered, and there was a softness in the air; the smell of yesterday’s rain was everywhere. 

As we hurtle into spring (why does this season always seem to go so fast and be filled with so much action?), we realized this would be our last chance to swim all together in a long time. Arwen leaves tomorrow for a tour with her group Cascada De Flores and others of us are in and out of town during the month of April. Hazel and I leave Friday for a road trip/college tour up to Oregon, Washington, and BC. As I swam in the warmish waters of the bay today (it was 61), I thought about how I am no longer acclimated to the true cold and it’s going to be quite a shock (but in a good way) to swim up north.