Yesterday, I decided to go swimming the way nature intended.
For years, I had heard the jokes about the Azov: It’s not a sea, it’s a puddle. You can walk across it. The water is the color of tea. And they aren’t wrong. At its deepest, the Azov barely scratches 15 meters. But that lack of depth is exactly what makes it the most liberating stretch of water I have ever slipped into. naked in the azov sea
There is a specific kind of quiet that exists only in the shallows of the Azov Sea. It isn’t the dramatic silence of a mountain peak or the heavy stillness of a library. It is the quiet of a wading pool. Yesterday, I decided to go swimming the way nature intended