It’s 6:14 a.m. and still dark at the beach.
The streetlights are on, casting their quiet glow along the curve of the shoreline. A garbage truck rolls past with its flashing yellow lights, the only real movement in an otherwise sleepy morning.
Across the sand I can see the bright lights of Queenscliff pool, and the lamps that trace the beach all the way from Manly to North Steyne and up to Queenscliff. They wrap around the bay like a quiet necklace of light.
When I turn to my right it’s much darker. The tall lamp posts above the Shelley Walk stand like sentinels in the early morning, but beyond them the point disappears into shadow.
From what I can make out, the ocean looks calm today, at least from here in the darkness.
It’s funny, the mornings are definitely getting darker now, and the warmth in the air doesn’t feel quite so warm anymore.
Summer is quietly slipping away. But strangely, I find myself looking forward to the winter swims.
The water might be colder, but the conditions are often beautiful. The visibility is incredible, like swimming through an aquarium. It’s a trade-off: the cold water for the clarity. And truthfully, the cold water does something good for the nervous system too.
I walk up to the point and sit on a rock.
Above Dead Man’s the new moon hangs in the sky, almost smiling down on the water. In the distance I can see the blue flashing lights of the early swimmers making their way through the dark.
The ocean is much calmer today than she has been. Just a few bumps, a few ripples, and every now and then a soft one-foot wave rolls through.
So I sit here quietly, watching and waiting for the golden eye to rise.
Siitting here in the dark on this rock, watching the ocean, I realise this will probably be the calmest moment of my day. Before the rush. Before the team meetings online. Before the thinking, the conversations, the movement of the day.
Right now it’s just me and the ocean.
And the quiet anticipation of diving into that swim.
By 6:32 a.m. another group of swimmers is making their way around the point, their heads bobbing gently in the water as they arrive.
And right on cue, the Drinks Express has entered the scene.
The morning is slowly waking up.
I’m still sitting here on the rock, and now it’s 6:55 a.m.
The golden eye still hasn’t appeared yet. Perhaps the sunrise is feeling a little shy today.
So I swing my other leg off the rock and start heading back toward the group. It’s almost time now, time to step into that water.
💙 Deb x