In the black

At last I've discovered a use for that Buckfast Tonic Wine that sits at the back of the cupboard (I get given a bottle every time my priest comes to visit). It's ideal for lacing your coffee, the perfect reviving tipple after an illicit moonlit swim. Well, it was supposed to be an illicit moonlit swim, and it was certainly illicit thought it wasn't moonlit as the moon was refusing to play ball and we ended up swimming in the pitch black. We met in our secret rendez vous - a car park in the middle of Dartmoor -clutching our torches and ready to trog off over the moor to plunge into our swimming spot. As we were all clad in our black wetsuits there were several comedy moments as we kept bumping into each other, but when we eventually got into the water it was magical and we clicked into another world altogether. Countless shades of monotone, gently lapping water, a grey smudgy sky, the black silhouettes of trees around us, and an all-enveloping sense of being part of the great silky black mass of water.