Time for a swim

SOFT, moist soil protected from the sun.

Compacted, dry, hard sunbaked ground.

Withered plant, dead and colourless. Unable to withstand the furnace that is the sun.

So we seek refuge, rushing down to the only place where we are safe — safe from suffering the same fate as those driedup, thirsty plants — McKenzies Beach.

Sisters jumping in ahead of me, the water droplets instantly evaporating off my skin.

I follow quickly, eager to escape the sun and submerge my body in cool water.

Our destination, the Big Rock, towering 7 metres high, it provides the desired energy rush of excitement.

I stand at the top, gazing down at the inviting waves crashing into the rock below.

Waiting until the rock proves too hot to bear, heat pricking my feet, coiling muscles pushing me away from the rock, down.

A moment of suspension, heart thumping, and the water rushes up to meet me, holding me in its icy depths.

The air from my lungs is buoyant, pushing me to the surface to grab a gulp of air.

Now as I dodge out of the way, the sun is blocked for a second, then I turn away, moments before impact, to get doused in cool, refreshing water.

The swim back to shore is slow, enjoying the feel of cold water, taking a breath, diving deep, calm, serene, peaceful.

The only feeling, a soft tickle of air bubbles as they journey to the surface.

Heading home, looking forward to tomorrow, to our only time of protection from the sun, the only trip we will be making in a long time.