15th April 2021 - Hail
A late in the day decision to swim, more to get out of the house and reset my nervous system than anything. I chat to my brother on the way to the pond. Airpods and facetime are miraculous, connecting us across the Irish Sea. He has already swum in a river today.
I arrive near the pond before we have finished our conversation, so sit under a tree, on my wet swimming costume plastic bag. The sky is dark and brooding, with a gap of bright blue and fluffy white above the horizon. It begins to rain lightly and I spread my raincoat over my legs. The tree above shelters me and I have hot tea in a thermos, and I’m about to swim anyway.
Then I notice that the rain has turned into miniature snowballs, delicate hail. I eat one. It has the consistency of snow rather than ice. But it is a little ball of snow, rather than a snowflake. The pond in front of me shimmers with ripples and sunlight. This kind of weather lends drama and aliveness to the day.
By the time I swim, the hail has died to a gentle, light rain. Droplets bounce off the water in front of me. The sky is a billow of grey cloud. Seagulls circle, one holding a crab claw in its beak. Faintly, muffled by the sound of the rain, church bells chime.
