Happy Hour Photo: beachradish images
“The beauty of a fragment is that it still supports the hope of a brilliant completeness” – Tobias Wolff
I want. I do. I’d like to say that this has gotten better with age, but really, it hasn’t. It is true that, as I’ve grown older, what I want has changed, it has morphed from wanting what is tangible to what is spiritual. It’s less about having something than being something – more creative, more funny, more soulful, more present… more like someone who doesn’t always want. Wanting is a funny thing. But implicit in wanting is a certain potential, a hope that what is wanted can somehow be realized. Very different from expectation; to want is to be empowered, to envision your reality and work towards it.
My husband and I have a somewhat predictable routine on those mornings when we can get out to surf together. We put on the coffee, feed the dogs, and then pull out the laptop to look at Surfline. One by one we systematically look at our favorite beaches — his and mine. Ever since we came back from Costa Rica, it’s never perfect, never quite what we want, in part because he’s a lot better than I am; he’s looking for something a little bigger, whereas I want clean, smallish and rolling, fat and gentle, and with a manageable period. I want to paddle and feel that push. I want to stand up. I want to glide. I want to surf. I want.
This morning, after the usual inconclusive analysis, we loaded up the car and drove the less than two miles to Dog Beach. It’s our home break, usually quiet. But it’s summer. And it was packed. We found a parking spot and walked out to survey. It wasn’t perfect, of course. But you’re there (and you found a parking spot), the water’s in front of you, you’re breathing the ocean air, and you see folks catching waves and having fun. And there it is: that rush – that feeling of “I want to be out there.”
Joined Photo: beachradish images
It was my first time in the water since we came back from Tamarindo. I’d been afraid of how it was going to feel – if I’d be able to take what I’d learned there and apply it here. If I’d be able to pick the right wave, paddle into it, stand up, balance, ride… it’s true, falling in cold water is different than falling in warm water. It even feels different going up your nose. But I had a blast. I felt the drop! True the wave might have been all of three feet, but I felt it, and it was awesome. I pearled. The unpredictable period and swells made getting back out an adventure. I rode a wave backwards (unintentionally). And every time I got back out, I couldn’t wait to give it another go.
After and hour or so, we came back in, both completely stoked. I didn’t catch every wave – and of the ones I did, I didn’t always stay up. Beautiful fragments that support the hope of a brilliant completeness, the one where I put it all together. The one where I’m out there, I paddle, I stand up, and I ride it as far and for as long as I want.
To see more of Nicole’s work, see her gallery titled “Impressionist Surf Photography Puts Your Sessions in Focus” and visit her site at beachradishimages.com or Follow her on Facebook. And learn more about her journey through “Evolution of a Non-Surfing Surf Photographer.”
