The Arrival
The first sight of the Pacific after hiking across the bluff confirms the surprisingly early arrival of a much anticipated swell. Back in town the word is all abuzz about this one. First real swell of the winter, big enough for the cove to break proper, the same old story as it’s always told and retold. Seems there’s no encryption on this network anymore, with every swell model downloaded to the public domain of collective consciousness. Now we all know when to skip work.
And apparently most of us do skip work, judging by the sheer numbers of us that show up at every movement of the ocean to overload the circuit boards of every decent break within easy driving distance.
Occasionally though, there are private moments of mystery still sheltered from public domination. They occur at the wrong spots on the wrong tides, between swells, and often right under our nose. The ocean is alive. Like you. We could watch you day and night and discern your patterns and forecast that you’ll do all sorts of things, and often we’d be right, but only out of luck. Nothing would prevent you from doing as you please, damn the forecast, you’re an ocean today. If you feel like waking up at four in the afternoon when nobody expects you to, you will, and we love you all the more for it.
