i go away from the city to arrive at myself. i go for a walk without my phone, eat blackberries at the side of a road (steep hill) and think about abundance and horror. I sit by the beach until it’s time to swim: i think about grandmothers. no, i think about ancestors. diving in, i almost swallow a mouthful of water in my gasp at the change in temperature. in this moment i have two simultaneous thoughts: “she opens her big mouth and worlds appear” (Hannah Black) and, less a thought than a sensation: nostalgia for a future in which we talk about how we used to swim in the ocean.