Solo and Un-caffeinated

By Crystal Craig

This morning,
I went down to the Salish Sea before sunrise.

The beach was empty.
No voices.
No cars.
Just me.

I kept looking around—
did I get the day wrong?

Checked my watch.
Once.
Again.
Still nothing.

I could have stopped at Mean Bean.
Where are they?
And more importantly,
why do I love this again?

Before I could talk myself out of it,
I waded into the water,
waist-deep,
and began the ritual.

“Three… two… one…”
My body refused.

Chest tight.
Breath shallow.

Again.

“Three… two… one…”
Still no.

Legs tense.

One more time.
“Three… two… one…”

And finally—
shoulders under.

Breath slowing.
Shivering.
Giggling quietly at myself,
alone in the sea.

Yes!
I now remember the why.

The light broke behind the marine bank,
gold spilling upward,
seagulls calling,
an eagle chirping,
a seal sliding past,
a heron’s prehistoric squawk,
the tide rocking me buoyantly.

Fifteen minutes already?

Cold turning to calm.
Every nerve awake.
Every thought clear.

I climbed out,
skin tingling,
heart steady.

And just then—
my friends arrived.

I had the time wrong.
My suit was already off,
bunched in the sand.

Not even entertaining
the workout required
to fight wet Lycra
over sticky skin.

But my dawn dip
turned out better than planned,

ready for the day
before my inner procrastinator
could even hit snooze.