The gently rolling waves put me into a trance and I find it difficult to come back to waking consciousness. But rather than roam the reefs of the sea, I float–in my half-sleeping state–among formations of Mother Earth that defy description. In reality, I was there only hours ago hovering weightless in water so clear it was as if I was flying through a dry cave filled with magical earthen structures.

It was a new cave for me, one never-before-visited during five or six weeks of cave diving I’ve done here in Akumal, Mexico. It was pristine with no noticeable damage from ill-timed fin movement. The only ‘damage’ I saw was where someone stood up and left an imprint of fins beside a lacy rock.

During both dives I found myself laughing joyfully at the outrageous beauty, shaking my head in wonder and immersing myself completely in the experience. Nothing else existed in those moments of geological excursion.

When I’m diving in caves such as these it changes me. I find myself moving deeper and deeper through time and space until I meet some other me that might have walked in wonder in the caves when they were dry, among these embodiments of ever-so-slow drippings of mineral-laden water, the artistry of time and gravity.