I can’t quite decide whether it’s warm enough to go into the water for my daily swim.
The sun keeps popping out so it’s possible that it will warm me up after what Gerry has taken to calling the scrotum-shrinkingly good time of swimming in this river in late September. And of course I could always run back to the house where the fire is already on… but that seems so wimpy.
Not going in at all seems equally wimpy, but that wind is so biting and this fleece is so warm and dry.
Ah well, if you don’t hear from me again you know the siren call of this cold river has claimed another warm body.