“Beware the Judderman, my dear, when the moon is fat.”
If you’re a geriatric millennial like me, you might remember this TV advert jingle for a schnapps-based alcopop called Metz. In it, a sinister Jack-Frost-like figure invites a commoner to indulge in the “deliciousness of judders”. Now, when I’m in a wood with a moon view, I think of him and get a bit scared.
Ever since lock down, I’ve been swimming outdoors in a nearby lake – at night. Around it, a thicket of veteran oaks lean into each other like gothic trusses. The frisson is real: nighttime in nature is when most animals wake up; there are strange noises (the Judderman, obviously) and stronger smells.
Damien’s lake gets blissfully quiet after dark
(Damien Gabet)
Like many of us during Covid, I was looking for something free to do that might help alleviate the anxiety of career death. At last count, the Outdoor Swimming Society (OSS) had over 170,000 members, up by over a third since 2020. A recent society poll found that the overwhelming reason for swimming outdoors was “joy”; over a third are now taking a dip at night.
“A lot of people are finding real comfort in nature again,” says Kate Rew, author of The Outdoor Swimmers’ Handbook and founder of the OSS. “It’s a great way to feel part of the planet and embrace a wilder side of yourself.” Night swimming, she argues, gives folks an even stronger sense of the above. “Not only are you free from gravity, but one of your major senses is taken away. You sort of feel like an astronaut moving in space.”
Tonight, I’m back at the lake for more derring-do in my regular dressing-gown-flip-flop combo. A quick skip over the turnstyle and I’m walking slowly – eyes not yet adjusted – through the eerie copse towards a jetty. My favourite swans are back too, resting on a purpose-built launch. As I approach, they sashay into the water, leaving me clear passage to the lake.
Diving through this shimmering sheet of obsidian has never stopped feeling like an act of faith
Diving through this shimmering sheet of obsidian has never stopped feeling like an act of faith. I take a minute. As my eyes wake up, I enjoy the view. A crescent moon pierces the sky, like a French manicure through navy tights. Swaying reeds susurrate at the water’s edge. On the hill behind, candle-lit windows help define the…
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