The wind was up early, but not the swell. Andy was already checking it by the time I got out of bed. Not so good, he said. He went home. I called Tom to let him know, but he had already left. I ate breakfast, stalled a bit, and then decided to check it anyway. Maybe the tide coming in would help. I really needed the ocean today. I opted out of today's bike ride, not really feeling it. I have to give an art lesson this afternoon,anyway. It would be stressful trying to get back in time...
Once at the overlook, I could see it was dismally small and a bit choppy. Twenty fishing poles lined the beach. Ugh.
Ah, what the heck. I knew I would feel better if I paddled around and caught a few. As I walked down, it seemed to look even smaller. But, once out in it, the water now 72 degrees, it was the baptism I needed. The water was almost green again. I caught a bunch of crumbly right handers, and a few quick lefts. It wasn't fantastic, but it was surfing. And, surfing always seems to do it. It restores the feeling that things are going to be alright. It puts you in the moment, and that's really all we have.
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