hawkwing_lb (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hawkwing_lb) wrote2011-04-28 11:09 pm
hawkwing_lb) wrote2011-04-28 11:09 pm
there's a story at the bottom of this bottle and I'm the pen
Second swim of the season today. Well, brief dip is still a more accurate description, though since the sun was high above the horizon at 0830 this morning and the air clear and still, I succeeded in actually thrashing around while submerged. For a very short period of time.
There's something almost holy about a clear bright morning on the shore at high tide, sunlight lancing from the water, the mutter of a quiet sea with its throat full of sand. Water waist-high and freezing, the plunge a shock of cold that steals your breath and squeezes your chest. The experience rather eludes description: the morning near-silent, the sun over the harbour, a man walking a labrador puppy at the lip between sea and sand.
I expect the water temperature ought to reach double digits next month - according to the chart, it still ought to be around about 8 Celsius right now. And in June it should reach a balmy 12 degrees Celsius. I look forward to that exceedingly.
Today was surprisingly productive, all in all. Got the DVDs stacked in the living room, did some Greek, went to town, finished my book, climbed. It ought to be interesting to see whether I can sustain as long a day tomorrow: I appear to sorely lack stamina. Perhaps I will take my new notebook down to the beach with Philostratus and actually take notes on the bloke, if it's fair enough again.
My plan to begin my thesis with a discussion of the experience of entrance is annoyed and delayed by requiring yet another ILL - but we shall overcome, indeed we shall.
There's something almost holy about a clear bright morning on the shore at high tide, sunlight lancing from the water, the mutter of a quiet sea with its throat full of sand. Water waist-high and freezing, the plunge a shock of cold that steals your breath and squeezes your chest. The experience rather eludes description: the morning near-silent, the sun over the harbour, a man walking a labrador puppy at the lip between sea and sand.
I expect the water temperature ought to reach double digits next month - according to the chart, it still ought to be around about 8 Celsius right now. And in June it should reach a balmy 12 degrees Celsius. I look forward to that exceedingly.
Today was surprisingly productive, all in all. Got the DVDs stacked in the living room, did some Greek, went to town, finished my book, climbed. It ought to be interesting to see whether I can sustain as long a day tomorrow: I appear to sorely lack stamina. Perhaps I will take my new notebook down to the beach with Philostratus and actually take notes on the bloke, if it's fair enough again.
My plan to begin my thesis with a discussion of the experience of entrance is annoyed and delayed by requiring yet another ILL - but we shall overcome, indeed we shall.