Back Home - The Ritual is the Same

When I once was where I should be soon...



Cold clean sand underfoot
Makes that special “cruch” you don’t hear anymore
But the sand squeaks as you walk
one grain rubbing against another
The mating ritual of Southern California
beach sand (sandia commonus)

But the sand squeak is here this morning
Welcoming me back
As I walk along
My favorite stretch of beach

Terrible surf BTW

The swell is looking better than earlier in the week
More cumulative emphasis on multi vector directional leanings
from the South
Helpful in the mixed salad of swells we ride
Also helpful is that the tide a little too high
Rocks you know ...
rocks hungry for the nylon flesh
of the mat

But it’s my first surf in months
So I don’t complain
It doesn't help and
Salt water heals me
The surf and the wind
like the cream on milk
is an added gift

The ritual is the same
The surf check
The suit up
The walk

My wetsuit is dry
Dry as my gills
Dry as my whistle
Dry like the Devil winds
that blow in the Fall

My booties however
are inexplicably
wet
cold and foul smelling
no matter

I stretch and walk
I walk and stretch
The water surrounds my ankles
After a long absence
And I’m home