I woke up at five this morning and wasn’t able to get back to sleep. Or maybe I would have been able to, but before I managed it, I had the thought that I’ve yet to do a sunrise swim and wouldn’t this be a great opportunity? Once the thought was there, I couldn’t put it away and so I climbed out of bed and into a swim suit.
It was chilly out, the grass dew-damp on my bare feet. A mist rose up from the water, which, once I slipped into, I could feel was much warmer than the air.
All was quiet except for the waking birds, chirping, twittering, and whistling out their morning greetings. Periodically, the loon called across the lake, deep and mournful.
I swam out into the middle of the bay, confident I wouldn’t have any boats to contend with at that hour. I mostly swam side and breaststroke, both because I couldn’t find my goggles and in order to keep my eyes glued to the spectacle of morning’s arrival. As the sky went from cobalt to daylight blue the clouds grew a deeper pink and then lightened. The rippling water reflected the colors and light in fractured patterns like a giant canvas of abstract art.
As I swam slowly through all of this beauty I could feel the peace and quiet seeping into my body, nurturing my soul. I may spend the rest of my day a little bit sleepy, but it will have been worth it to witness the dawn from that warm, welcoming water.