As Paul described, it was a bit like the seaside. We swam across Coniston – it took a while and left time for the mind to wander as we swam. To be honest my mind was still swimming Moss Eccles tarn – I hadn’t really finished with it or maybe the contrast with Coniston was so great that it floated me back to the previous swim.
As I recollected it, we approached Moss Eccles on a broody, thundery day. It’s greenery was already full of reds and browns, and summer seemed to be at it’s height. The ‘body of water’ showed traces of lilac in it’s reflections and seemed thick and alive. Then I thought you could as well say the ‘mind of water’ – for was this eco-system in all its interdependent complexity not, essentially, a sentient being? – self absorbed maybe and withdrawn into a deep silence; locked in extravagant cogitation and idling its time away in endless self-transformation – yet an integrated living creature all the same?
At that moment it felt like our arrival at the lake was a moment of contact with an ancient being who would rather not be disturbed. Our un-stated aim seemed to be to evoke a response from the lake which would reveal it’s miraculous plenitude and personality.
Upon our entry into the still lake it writhed into a turbulent state; this introverted world became a vortex of mental currents, created, confused, and confined in it’s murky depths: it’s thoughts, emotions and sediments were stirred by our intrusion. We looked at it’s bed and saw rocking weed through the occasional shafts of sunlight. These were the elements of our encounter with the lake and when we finally emerged, leaving it to calm down, I felt this ‘mind of water’ returning, ineluctably, to its original state of quiescence where it would dream of us for a million years or forget us instantly.
Meanwhile back at Coniston Lake it felt like a beach party was going on and we swam ashore.
24th June Coniston Water
High summer heat in the afternoon and early evening. No climb, just park and swim. Entered the water from a beach full of picnicking families, who were suddenly entertained by two men walking straight into the water, heading for the far bank. Canoeists and sailboarders were out on the water in force plus an Irishman from Dublin training for the Frankfurt Iron Man in early July. The strength of the water’s call was demonstrated by the numbers of those so called.
We swam east to west through balmy currents and cooler water. Landing on the opposite beach, we were applauded by someone who had been watching us land, then we headed back.
This swim felt different because of the numbers of people present and the fact that we were observed. It changed our practice for the swim and it felt inappropriate to plant a post or paint a mark. This spot already has its signposts and needed nothing further.
The sun reflecting on the surface was intense and we spent some time on a small headland just watching the play of light.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxxaqmYarZg
Later, over a pint in a beer garden near by, we watched the light over Coniston Old Man and toasted this day.
Paul
15th June Moss Eccles Tarn
We crossed Windermere on the ferry and set off from Sawry up to Moss Eccles tarn. Hail and thunder-and-lightning on the way up so we sat for a good while under a tree wondering what had become of all the sunny weather. Actually we could see it sitting over Coniston – our next swim. Meanwhile we began to accept that the circle might be begun in the rain, Paul put in a post and we gathered some water and sediment from the lake.
After searching the skies for a sunny gap we gave up and decided to get on with it – as we started to swim to the west the sun came out from somewhere – it flashed and played on the weed below us on the bed of the relatively shallow lake – it waved in slow motion in the slightly merky water. The tarn teemed with life compared to Blea Tarn which was much higher. Vegetation, birds, insects, even the consistency of the water, taken as a whole, seemed to witness the fact that we were swimming through a complex living being – the lake had an existence as a single entity.
Richard
Blea Tarn 1.6.09
We drove north to Keswick, then south to Watendlath, the road climbing and narrowing. As we drove, we discussed a quote from Tarkovsky that Richard had emailed me the previous day, focusing on the value of the individual vs the global/universal approach to art.
Hot sun. A steep early climb then a couple of miles along the valley above the river flowing from Blea Tarn.
Discovering the lake recalled childhood memories of first seeing the sea on family holidays. It’s still exciting to ‘find’ open water.
We made a triangulated swim round the tarn, the water beautifully cool under the immediate sun.
I drove a marker into the ground and drew a red circle in earth pigment. It felt like a statement – now it starts.
Water surface on Blea Tarn – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdZPQjKJLVk
Paul
Blea Tarn
1st June, Blea Tarn in the centre of the swim-circle; this is the ‘fixed point’ around which we aim to swim on a circle of radius 12 miles (approximately). Being quite high, we scanned the horizon and realised it was essentially what we would be swimming round; in the north we could just make out Bassenthwaite lake which stood at ’12 ‘o clock’ and would be roughly half way round. The water temperature was a balmy 17degrees and we swam a circuit of the 40m deep tarn. Paul placed a prepared post overlooking the lake and we collected some stones from the floor of the tarn – one stone in particular had the shape of Blea Tarn imprinted on it – as if the lake was presenting us with a copy of itself.
Richard
