Layers and layers and layers.
Today I took my first swim at Lytle Beach. The warm air and dazzling water diamonds beneath the spring blue sky were a gift to my eyes, and a relief to my body. Even in a full wetsuit I felt the chill today , but the sunshine delivered a bit of warmth to the early spring sea, and swimming through the shallows over eel grass and sand flats I could almost imagine summer again. It was so very long ago, but suddenly signs of summer are appearing in and out of the water.
Bright yellow daffodils bloomed happily next to the parking lot, while birds chirped and hopped about in the adjacent gardens.
I was all set, had packed everything, excited to try this new beach…but I forgot my swim float. Carefully weighing my options and eyeing the shallow beach, I opted to throw a bright green swim cap over my black hood to add visibility and swim in the shallows. No swim float meant taking extra precautions, and I was glad to have my neon green cap on to alert anyone about that I was not a seal in distress. Just a lone swimmer.
Peering up and down the wide beach, I decided to head south. I crossed over the dry sand studded with shell fragments, then over the wet rocks littered with seaweed and lastly the muddy sand flats where flocks of seagulls and ducks fished along the shore and in the shallows.
Out in the sparking water past a red channel marker, a ferry passed by on its way to Bremerton through Rich Passage.
I waded in over a bed of eel grass, the sunlight turning the waving fronds a bright neon green, while shards of sunlight kissed the rocks and sand below with golden light.
This new swim spot already was surprising me with new delights and pulling me into the moment—the place I so desperately needed to be.
Large Dungeness crabs peeked out among the beds of eel grass and the outgoing tide lifted large feathered fronds of brown seaweed up towards the surface, angling towards my churning body like underwater arms reaching out to brush softly on my fingertips. These long fronds reminded me of the tall underwater plants found in fresh lakes that used to spook me as a child. To this day I still dislike lake swimming because of those creepy plants, and was surprised to find them in the saltwater. I guess I have a lot more to learn about the Salish Sea, and what lives and grows there!
I know kelp forests abound, but somehow these shallow water seaweeds surprised and alarmed me. Nevertheless, I overcame my fear and continued on. These plants aren’t out to get me or pull me under, and once I reassured myself I was okay, I was able to look forward to passing by more of them along my route.
Seeing the occasional crab was both reassuring and familiar, reminding me that summer will come, and the circle of life continues on. The water is still much too cold for our beloved jellyfish, but in time they too will reappear.
I was delighted to also pass over vibrant orange anemones with feathery fingers, tucked here and there along the sea floor. I reached a line of pilings a half mile south of the parking lot, where a flock of cormorants perched, drying their wet wings. As I approached the pilings below them, they took flight, scattering like seeds. The current pulled me south, and with some effort I headed north again back to the start. A ferry passed by, rocking me and sending the eel grass and long seaweed fronds swaying, liquid dancers rocking in perfect synchronicity.
For a moment I felt of the water, rocked along with the seaweed below me. In perfect harmony. Floating free and easy.
Nearly back my eye caught the unmistakable shape of a star. One lone orange starfish sat on the sea floor. I dove down to gently stroke its soft back. A thank you and wish for more of its family to thrive and grow here again.
Back at Lytle I found myself in very shallow water, the inner heat from my exertion and the sun-warmed water a soul soothing blessing, radiating warmth and calm inwards and outwards from my being.
I rose up onto my feet into sunlight and warm air. A father and son played in the mudflats, the boy stomping about in bright rubber boots. Up the beach another father and daughter stood upon a makeshift seesaw log, keeping in perfect balance, neither side touching the sand below.
The moment was perfect. Perfect balance. Light and beauty and people peacefully taking in the day.
And everywhere around me, layers and layers of life, with all of its shadows of loss and difficulty and strife, stacked in and between layers and layers of love and hope and friendship.
Mary Swims 
🌹💖🤞🏻🦋🤞🏻💖🌹