20th March
The equinox puddles a perfect balance of grey sky to grey sea. There is no sun in the sky, no marker of the monumental moment when day becomes the equal of night after what seems to have been the longest winter.
I’ve been a week away from swimming and the intent to get into a cold grey sea seems more absurd than ever. Splashing along a damp road through dirty overnight puddles listening to bank collapse and extension of war, bed would certainly be an easier option.
It is an addiction however. My body and my mind crave the sea and, after a week not being held by it, I pine as if for a great lover.
The cormorants are there looking down forebodingly. They keep us safe, me and the Canadian. She’s ditched her wetsuit again, serene and with a visible intent not to wince or grimace with the cold. The sea is a degree or so warmer than in February.
It’s still around seven degrees, it is March after all. It will change, there will be a spring tide storm or similar ruckus of the water and the very cold bottom will rise up to greet us.
In a not quite equinox of temperature, it’s eight degrees on the beach. This would have been considered cosy just a few weeks ago. A lovely south-easterly makes it feel colder but nothing like the north easterlies at the end of last month.
Those words alone are enough to put a chill in the spine of any East Anglian both literally and figuratively. Those pure-bred viking winds that in a moment can feel as if they have the strength to take the skin off the side of your face.
Today, just energy and renewed equilibrium. Balance once more.
