Swimming at Davies Tidal Pool
Restarting a habit from last summer, regularly wade into the cold Atlantic Ocean at high tide, in a naturally formed tidal pool surrounded by rocks and filled with the murky wash of a rich river up the coast. The experience is grounding, sometimes violently so. It’s not the TikTok cold plunge, but rather a heartbeat-activating, lung-sucking gasp of air—sometimes even an underwater shiver. Then, the mind just pinpoints the now. Here we are, drifting, noticing the shards of sunlight piercing the murky veil, feeling my way around rocks, and those exhilarating brushes with unseen floating kelp.
The mountains are filled with white quartz, and the murky freshwater is believed to be healing, purifying, and medicinal. Or perhaps simply a bathing ritual is the panacea for this water goddess’s gifts. The pool is surrounded by children with fishing nets exploring the jewels of the rock pools, moms, lesbians, and bachelorette parties mingling on the grassy paths. Uncomfortable first dates and retirees sit on benches, staring at the defined horizon line, where the world ends, and time drops and curves unendingly.
Platbos Reserve - https://platbos.co.za
Claimed as South Africa’s southernmost forest, this sanctuary reveals many gifts. A structural invitation to ascend to meet the treetops, where physical connection with ancient branches supports the climb and soothes my physical vertigo. This is followed by a deeper, subliminal invitation to descend to the forest floor. I explore barefoot, traversing through several windows framed by young sprouts, old vines, and ancient milkwood trees. I release my sense of orientation and time, noticing the intertwined ascent and descent of the vines, twisting, knotting, and co-creating connections, emulating repeated patterns of structure.
The koan of the day etched in sign by the labyrinth built from sea shells: "Have the baboons rearranged the shells again?"
Deep, deep joy.
Accepting invitations of several trees to mirror them, using my body—twisting my trunk and lifting my head, balancing my arms in various directions. One foot cemented in the sandy soil, the other tiptoeing with a bent knee, continuously sensing a stable, flexible emergence. Fingers and hands spreading outwards connecting to the ley lines of the body equilibrium.
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