Sunrise Swim | Nado al Amanecer
"Two early-morning swimmers find each other in the ocean as the sun rises"
Sunrise Swim
Nado al Amanecer
Every morning at 5:30, I swam. Every morning, so did she.
"You're always here," I observed one day.
"So are you."
"What are you swimming from?"
"The same thing as you, probably."
Her name was Mariana. She'd started swimming after her divorce—needed something her own, she said.
"The ocean doesn't judge," she explained.
"Neither do I."
"I've noticed."
We started swimming together. Not talking, just moving through water as the sun rose.
"This is the best part of my day," she admitted.
"Mine too. Since when?"
"Since you started keeping pace."
She kissed me in the shallow water, waves lapping at our waists.
"Salt and sunrise," she said. "My new favorite tastes."
"You taste like both."
We swim every morning still. Then we go home together. To the life we built from dawn rituals.
"To the ocean," we toast.
"To what it brought us," she adds.
Sunrise swim—where water heals, and love rises with the sun.