Today in the midst of life, long phone calls, emails sent and replied to, bills paid, groceries bought, decisions mad and unmade, neighbors greeted, there were waves. Oh, they weren't predicted. They were called poor by Surfline. I couldn't even see them from my window, not until I went to the boardwalk, because of where they were breaking. And it happened late in the day, in the middle of everything.
And so I just accepted it and integrated them into my life.
This, after all (I had so forgotten this flat and despondent winter) is why I live here, after all.
Dropped everything, went. Thinking,
This is too easy. All I have to do is make sure I've got something in the house for dinner cause I'll be starving when I get out; throw on a suit; and go. Thinking too much about it would ruin it. Ten minutes from, should I go, to, Yes.
No one could do this if they have to drive or take a train to the beach. No one could just stop in the middle of whatever.
I considered that living 30 seconds from the beach really does make it too easy to surf, but after some contemplation, failed to find anything wrong with that. Anyway I was already halfway to the water as I contemplated. Is there such a thing as too easy?
And even though the wind had west in it, I had some miracle waves. Two of the best ever, or at least in a long time. Waves where I was able to look back over my shoulder and adjust what I was doing to what I knew, from long experience, the wave would do, such as close out. Waves where I was able to do what I needed to do on each section, all the way in.
Unexpected. Easy. Wonderful.