This is love. Image: Holly Shoebridge
Today the sun came out
and the forecast was sweet
and everyone was on the road
with boards piled high on top of their rides
or on the side of their bikes
The breeze was
not too icy
and there was that offshore rainbow spray.
I am quiet out in the water
but I smile inside
when people around me are so happy
to have made it out of work at 3pm
in the middle of the week.
The car park is full
and wetsuits and boards are walking everywhere
towards the different peaks on this tiny peninsula.
It’s like the past weeks of rain and more rain
and no surf and slate skies
never existed.
And you picture a whole bunch of eyes
everywhere in the hills around you and a few hours away
keeping watch over the days
at the forecast, at the wind, straining your neck
to guess what the surf is doing
from any water you see.
Even if you are driving past an inlet.
The weeks of waiting,
the weeks of wondering.
“I am leaving this coast!”
You never realized there was a cloud
over you that
only the ocean could
dissolve.
Until you are in your van
feeling the warmth of the
suddenly summer sun.
All those bunches of eyes
we are now zipping across the hills
towards the sea.
You can almost feel the hearts singing
in the warmish air.
Pouring yourself into the wetsuit
and bringing out the wax.
Key, check.
Automatic.
Trying to move as fast as you can before.
Your legs take off towards the water.
Sun and swell at the same time in one day?!
You step in.
Calm.
Clear.
This is home.
I guess this is love.
