Born Again

I finally gathered up my balls and went for it this afternoon. The Cove was beckoning me and so I went to it. I changed into my swimsuit in our boathouse and meandered down to the footbridge. The sharp rocks were a rude awakening to my bare feet, reminding me of how soft my feet have become from wearing rubber boots. I used to brazenly jump in the water in one fell swoop from our dock, but I was feeling cowardly today and slowly eased into the chilly water. First a toe, then a leg, a few drops here and there, and finally SPLASH!

It is a shock initially. But after a few moments, once my body acclimates, I remember why this personal ritual lives on from year to year. My dad tells about a guest at our family cottages who used to swim to Little Island and back every year into his old age. I've always wanted to follow that example. I hope to still be doing this when I am well into my seventies.

I have always preferred salt water to fresh. While my friends often go to the local pond to swim, I gravitate towards the Cove. There's something about salt water that awakens every aspect of your being. At first, I awaken from the wariness of summer heat. Every pore alert. I become more aware of my surroundings. Then as my muscles relax from the initial shock, I indulge in my buoyancy, swimming, splashing, twirling, and diving to my heart's content. I literally laughed out loud out of the joy of being immersed in the Cove once again as I was swimming today. Only labs, seals and otters can relate to the freedom of salty bliss.

As I emerged from the saltwater I felt incredibly refreshed. They say that saltwater will disinfect a fresh wound. I think it cleanses more than just cuts. Swimming in the Cove continues to be a purifying ritual for me, 25 years after my baptism in the same water. It's as if I'm reborn each time I emerge from the frigid seawater. The ocean reawakens my spirit every time I dive in. I am born again.