This summer I have surfed more than I have surfed in a really long time. And I've basically only surfed one break! Seriously, I haven't even checked anywhere else the entire time. Isn't that terrible? Well, it would be except the waves have been so incredible that it's hard to feel bad about it. The sand and swell and winds have been lining up to create long, clean, clear waves that break from the point all the way into the beach. And for some reason, things have been lining up for me, so that I catch a wave, paddle back out and then catch another and another and another. It feels as though something has lifted - a weight, a fog, a sadness, a darkness - that has opened me back up to this place and to surfing in a way that I have not felt for longer than I wish to admit. It has allowed things to come together in ways that I can't really explain here. I wish I had the words and the courage to explain it - maybe I'll try to find them sometime soon.
But for now, waves and clouds and friends and community and the sea.