In 1996 the British writer Roger Deakin decided to swim his way around the British Isles, starting the journey from the murky Elizabethan moat on his farm. His chilly adventure had transformative effects. “When you enter the water, something like metamorphosis happens,” he wrote in Waterlog, the 1999 book chronicling his odyssey. In the 21 years since, Waterlog has become something of a bible to proponents of “wild swimming”: an adrenaline-raising trend nudged into popularity by its publication. But why call it “wild”? Perhaps it’s because we’ve domesticated the act and become accustomed to man-made pools. In swimming pools, you can see what lies beneath. But in a river, it’s all left to the imagination, for better or worse. In our sanitized lives, as we contemplate ways of “resisting the attention economy, ” we’re slowly finding our way back into open water with all its unchlorinated possibilities. This story is from Kinfolk Issue Thirty-six Buy Now Related Stories Arts & Culture Issue 50 Close Knit Meet the weavers keeping traditional Egyptian tapestrymaking alive. Arts & Culture Issue 50 The Old Gays Inside a Californian TikTok “content house” of a very different stripe. Arts & Culture Issue 50 New Roots The Palestinian art and agriculture collective sowing seeds of community. Arts & Culture Issue 50 Angela Trimbur An all-out tour de force. Arts & Culture Issue 50 Peace & Quiet In the UK, a centuries-old Quaker meeting house encourages quiet reflection. Arts & Culture Issue 50 Free Wheelers On the road with London’s Velociposse Cycling Club.
Arts & Culture Issue 50 Close Knit Meet the weavers keeping traditional Egyptian tapestrymaking alive.
Arts & Culture Issue 50 The Old Gays Inside a Californian TikTok “content house” of a very different stripe.
Arts & Culture Issue 50 New Roots The Palestinian art and agriculture collective sowing seeds of community.
Arts & Culture Issue 50 Peace & Quiet In the UK, a centuries-old Quaker meeting house encourages quiet reflection.