Morning Surf

A morning surf.
Head out the door.
Feel the still winter air.
Cold wetsuit heightens the sensors.
Quickly wax the board, under the arm.
Running down the path.
Hearing the waves crashing against the shore.
Minds eye in overdrive.
What's it going to be like?
The answer moments away.
Choose the spot.
Head high waves floating through.
Some holding up with a long wall.
Cartoon drawing in my mind.
Run to the sea edge and straight in.
Years of doing this teach you not to take your time.
Not in winter, with this water.
First duck dive brings that ice cream headache.
But as the paddling gets more energetic, the coldness goes.
Still water on interrupted by lines of swell.
Sit in position.
Breath.
First wave approaches.
Experience tells you how deep you can paddle.
With this tide they will hold up well.
Paddle, paddle.
To your feet.
Breath.
Short closeouts used to teach me to hold my breath as I stood.
But these waves hold down the line, so I breath.
In. Out. In. Out.
Bottom turn.
The feeling of the wave moving beneath you.
Growing in front of you.
Top turn.
Gain speed.
Slight adjustments with your feet. subtlety is the key when required.
Focus on the moving wave.
Do you need to slow. Speed down the line.
Where on the lip will you hit?
Slide your fingers along the moving wave.
Living.
Breathing.
Closeout at the end so you kick out just in time.
Water vapour settles around you as the crashing wave meets the shore.
Lie on the board and paddle again.
Repeat.
Repeat again.
The add breaks come in when sitting outside.
The occasional bird searching for a meal.
The sun rising in the sky.
A visit from a dolphin or two.
Breathing the winter air.
Last wave. Onto the beach. Wrap the leg rope around the board. Back home.
Alive.
A Morning surf.