Swimming today. There was a heaviness in the air – The air itself was almost green, thick and heavy with impending weather. At the beach, there were thick black clouds marching over the whiteness of the rest of the sky. The clouds came from the south in a black wall. And so the sky was half black, half white. Beautiful. No rain. And the ocean was a slate grey, dark, chilly, with nice big waves, rolling in, one after the other. It takes your breath away. So does the salt air. The beach wasn’t really crowded, because it wasn’t sunny, but there were lifeguards on duty, and tons of surfers paddling out to meet the waves. The water was cold (at least compared to the humid air) – so refreshing you almost felt like laughing out loud. Which I did. I never wanted to leave the ocean. There was almost no seaweed. I was by myself, and I just swam and rode waves in and bobbed up and down on my back, riding up and down the huge swells, for about an hour. I never wanted to leave. Walking back to my car, through the sun which had just then weakly re-appeared, my skin felt tight and clean. Salt-soaked. That first shock, when diving into the water, is awesome. After you get used to the cold, it’s kind of like … damn. I never ever want to get out of the ocean. Ever. I’m from the Ocean State. I’m a Rhode Island girl, through and through.
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“I never wanted to leave the ocean.”
I never do either. Even Tallahassee was too far from the water for me. I missed it so much. And while I adore being smack in the middle of Boston, my mom’s place right on the beach up in Gloucester has been such a Godsent solace sometimes, in so many ways.
dave j:
my father grew up in gloucester. we’d go to good harbor beach when visiting my grandmother as a kid. also, nichol’s candy for cashew turtles and peanut butter cups. my eyes and mouth are watering!
susanna
I like to think I love the ocean, but I think you’re tougher than me. Ten years ago this summer, I took a three-day cruise on a schooner (Isaac H. Evans), out of Rockland, Maine. The last night out–the night after the description-defying lobster bake on a gravel beach at some nameless islet where we anchored–we anchored in some cove with two or three other schooners.
I decided to have a swim off the boat. The cove was calm and the summer in 1995 unseasonably warm for Maine, so the first six inches or so of water were warm. Below that, it was pretty much usual for Maine: the scientific term is either, I believe, “way too cold” or “are you frakking kidding me?” Made it once around the schooner (and I was running 3+ miles, 3-4 times a week then) and couldn’t draw a full breath, so I settled for sailing the yawl-boat around the anchorage with some of the other passengers. Nowadays I keep my ocean swimming to the Outer Banks , places like that. (With due respect to the Ocean State and everyone else’s favorite places, there’s no better place on Earth. So there. ;-P)
Anyway. Never been to Rhode Island, but I bet I’d like it. Every wood boat crank needs to make the wood boat crank’s hajj to Newport, anyway. I’ve been to Bath and the Maine Maritime Museum, but not to Newport–nor Mystic, which is like Medina to Newport’s Mecca.
nice! what beach did you go to?
Narragansett – it was great!~
so great to see you all, mere – i loved it.
fun as hell as usual! come back soon!