by Erin Hallett
In a city of nearly a million people, I’m blessed with an incredible upstairs neighbor, who’s not only a fantastic, funny, friend — but also a kickass physical therapist at USF and one helluva ballsy girl who swims in the Bay often in the wee hours of the dawn. Go Erin! We love you!
Just before sunrise, I am standing at the water’s edge, looking out towards the opening to the San Francisco Bay – the water is dark, cold, yet still inviting.
The first minute is humbling – the temperature takes your breath away, your vision is limited to a few feet in front of you and all you can hear is the rhythmic splash of each stroke you take.
This morning is a bit different though. As we swim together, stroke for stroke, out the opening of Aquatic Park and towards Fort Mason – our course is lit by the bright full moon.
As the moon begins to set behind Hawk Hill, the sun begins to rise behind us. The moon’s white light sparkling on the water begins to shift and trade places with pink and orange light reflected off our wake as the sun rises – as if involved in a choreographed dance.
Swimming in the Bay has become a very important part of my life these past few years. It is a place I can go inward and I find solace that the only constant is the ebb and flow of the tides.
This morning, I pause from my swimming and float on my back for a moment to witness this incredible display of nature.
I am home.
