This little mermaid has always been more at home submerged in a waterworld than wandering about on land, the pedestrian God finally fashioned me…
No complaints here; I don’t mind at all walking the land, the concrete, the stairs, to reach my final destination: a body of water. And its into this I dive. A royal swandive, usually.
Waterworld - NIKON D3000 f/18; Exposure 1/80sec; ISO-100
Formative years were built upon Sydney sand and surf, our family home 10 minutes walk from Coogee Beach and my parent’s deli located literally 50 meters from the sandstone wall separating beach from parkland. It was on this wall that thousands of Aussie bums, sandy swimming trunks, and sunburnt, salty limbs would perch watching the gromits lose their boardies in the chop and learn the hard way that its a crime to drop in on another man’s wave. By the way, and for your information, dropping in is a crime in the surf world. A drop-in is where a surfer catches a wave without having priority, for there is already a surfer on the wave. BAD MOVE!
My own memories of early swims don’t actually exist, so integral was the daily dose of ducking and diving waves to the Life of Young Alice. Swimming: as part of my being as playing with friends, reading a book and riding a bike (though I do remember the horrors of learning to ride.)
Waterworld - NIKON D3000 f/9; Exposure 1/320sec; ISO-100
Fast forward forty years and it is to swimming that I turn when the heat of Dubai rises above forty degrees centigrade, so that bitumen melts and birds disappear from trees. Its to the pool I turn for physical and mental rewards (and lets face it – relief from 8 months of dog-day swelter), and to this ancient sport, second only to running as my favourite pass-time. No need to state the obvious, but running is a dangerous sport for us desert-dwellers. Stick to the water; even the doctors recommend it.
Waterworld - NIKON D3000 f/9; Exposure 1/250sec; ISO-100
As such, swimming is my salvation. It immediately cools my hot head, then stretches my body beyond earthly limits, eliminating every ache and indulging every muscle. But more that this: its my inward journey, a time of silencio; quiet contemplation. I am cocooned in an element to some alien and to me so familiar.
Peace. And then my mind goes to work; it is flexed; it imagines all sorts of realities; new possibilities manifest. I work things out without the interruption of human voice or emails. Silence is all around. Cool, dark, wet silence. Just me and my breaths. The little mermaid from Coogee at it again.
