My friend Meg sent me a link to this short film a little while ago. It’s about a woman, a grandmother, who swims in the sea every day. I remember a similar woman in my childhood village. She’d walk past you in swimsuit and bathing cap, towel flung over her shoulder, and give you a cheery wave. In December. I was so impressed. As a sea-mad child it seemed a wonderful thing to be able organise your life around.

The film is slow and contemplative, but I love how the woman describes getting up each morning and opening the curtains to check on the state of the sea first thing. She also says that she ‘runs down to the shore.’ In reality she capers along in her clogs, but I love that it must feel like running, still. The sense of absolute urgency about getting down to the sea never leaves you! I like the simplicity of her routine: porridge, dressing gown on, swim. I can see how removing any extraneous faff helps you commit to just getting in and swimming, no matter what the weather is like. The other thing to note, which I have realised is essential if you want to swim in the sea regularly is… live right in front of it. Sounds obvious – and admittedly not easy to achieve – but having only a few steps between your door and the sea makes it much easier to commit to a quick dip. I know, because my flat in Margate is just a set of steps away from an empty beach. What a privilege.

The film comes from a wonderful website called The Island Review. If you love the sea you’re sure to also love islands, and it’s the notion of islands, and what makes them special, that this lovely online publication explores. Above is the first island I was fascinated by – St Michael’s Mount in the bay of my home town. You can find a lovely piece about one writer revisiting it here. The rest of the publication is full of intelligent essays and beautiful photography, covering islands from the far-flung to the familiar, including pieces on islands in art, literature and culture.