It was a blustery, rainy English day today. Not a day that screams at you to get in for a swim, but of course I had to do it and, of course, it was lovely. After a lazy, lounging morning and a rainy, brisk walk, we went back to Manningtree where I jumped into the River Stour at Grandma’s swans again.

Luckily, there were no swans. Just me, the rain, the boats, and poor Kevin standing in the rain at the water’s edge.

The water was cold, but because it was windy, I was motivated to get right in. Underwater I was warmer than exposed to the elements. I’ve definitely acclimated to the colder waters; today I left my gloves behind altogether (yesterday, too) and it was fine. I had a wonderful swim around the bay, taking in the beauty, appreciating the salty/fresh water mixture, the rain on my face. 

After ten minutes, I decided it was time to relieve Kevin from his wet vigil in the sand. I got out, dried off, and we joined the rest of the family in the pub across the street for a last pint and chitchat before we return to London tomorrow. As we left the pub, I took one last look at my beach in the magical twilight and felt a strong urge to jump back in, but didn’t do it.