On Cold Water Immersion
I'm a bit obsessed with cold water swimming. I love swimming - in lakes, in lidos, in rivers - wherever the water is crisp and clear and gorgeous. This poem is about how it feels to jump into the cold water, and come out smiling. It's a poem for all the cold water swimmers, ice-breakers and dry robe botherers out there! The evidence on cold water immersion is inconclusive but these visible breath blue sky birdsong mornings still bring goosebumps blossoming, cutting through the central- heated weekday malaise, until you remember your body again. These Sundays are sacred. Salvation a wide lake tangled in morning mist and duck weed, mallards calling from the shallows. Deep breaths, tentative steps, skin sparkling fresh with chill as the mirror-soft surface slips from toe to ankle, knee to hip, waist to shoulder. Call it secular worship, call it self- indulgence, call it the miracle of falling in reverse, wh...