We can see our breath in the air now, it looks like the mist that hangs thin over the surface of the water. It’s a specific sort of calm that cloaks me on a morning like this, with a controlled breath, accepting the bitter crystal of the icy water. I’m only up to my knees so far. It will be only minutes before I emerge, skin bright and prickling. The sky is smudged peach, and the colour is a gift now that the bright greens of the summer have faded. The thin black branches of the trees either side of the river used to be covered in growth, but now they are bare I can see the birds perched on them, silhouettes against the sunrise. This is only the start, and right now it feels as though the winter will stretch on for a long time. There is a small pinch of dread in my stomach at the thought. I remind myself that I am ready for it as I lower myself into the water to my waist. This ritual will be a marker, each week the water will gradually drop, an inconsistent shaking line down to under ten, under five degrees, then it will slowly creep back up with spring. The commitment to the cold will be a reason to get out of bed, the satisfaction will see me through each day. This hopeful habit causes ebbing warmth in your bones and to the tips of your fingers, strange after being so cold.
I submerge myself in the river to my shoulders, breathing deeply as the icy water covers my body. There’s no clarity quite like it. My friend is stood on the bank behind watching, it will be his turn next. I will pull a warm coat around me, drink hot coffee from a flask and watch him do the same. Then we will walk together back along the river indoors. But right now there’s nothing except this present moment, my mind cannot overthink when its focus is the cold and the mist, the gentle rustling of river reeds. I close my eyes and listen to the lapping water and the call of birds. The sunlight is gradually getting stronger, burning off the mist, I feel it on my face. And slowly my mind set shifts, the day ahead of me doesn’t feel like it will be so hard as when I first woke up. This isn’t just something we endure, it’s something we get to enjoy for a brief time before spring comes around once again.