Waterbaby - True Aquarius

Since there has been no time to surf of late, and demands of time are at premium prices, all I can do is write about the stoke of surfing. When Yours truly was a small fish, I was scared shitless of the water. Dont really know why, just was, I guess. Prolly 'cause Grandpa & Dad used to toss my scared ass into the deep water back in small kid time. Nothing abusive, they didnt know I was shittin' bricks.
Used to go to bodysurf alot when small, as well. Sean Paige and I would ride our Scwinns to Sandy Beach at dawn (5 miles 1 way) And check out the sunrise and slam some waves. The change from fear to awe came when Sean & I were out on a rather big day. ( When you're small, I guess anything is a big day) Shittin' bricks on the shore, Sean was pumped to go out. We were all of like 12 y/o. Being my best friend, I told him how scared I was. True friend, he did not belittle me, but rather took it upon himself to make sense of it- The whole thing, the surf, the fear, the stoke, the challenge, the rewards.
He made it clear that fear was good. Only and idiot didnt have fear somewhere buried in a deep seated ganglion in them. That fear was respect. Respect for the ocean, nature, life in the waters, others. The stoke- how good it felt to harness the power of the waves, the whole ocean unfolding on you. The challenge - how success would come only after many failures, but to learn from them, and grow. The rewards - taking from your surf session fleeting glimpses of Gods perfection - his/her way of showing us the beauty in simple, natural highs.

He did all that around 5 in the morning. From that day on - I have been an addict. Certified addict. Nothing - (next to seeing my children come into the world) comes close. Companies use trite comments like "only a surfer knows the feeling" True as it is, is not true. You can not put into words what the experience is like to someone who doesnt participate, so how would you know to speak it? Surfers can talk about it, the sessions the waves, the conditions. But you can never really give it accurate.
It is only you and the wave. No team sport. There are waves and sights and sounds that I can begin to describe. I can try, but wont do it justice. Smells of the ocean in the morning fresh limu (seaweed) salty air, wind, shells, fish...It all just becomes a blur 'cause the focus is waves. Gifts from storms hundreds, thousands of miles away. Waves that began a march to our shores miles ago, now release the travel on our reef, our time, our session of surf. Lucky shit I am to be there.

Altho' recently, aint had time to shit worth a dollar, nor get out into ol' Mother Ocean.

She will wait tho', and take me back into her arms, warm cobalt blue waters, and I will rejoice at the return.

Corny, sorry.

Aloha.