Surfing has been a constant through most of my adult life. I’ve marked important occasions by paddling out to sit in the swell however small, cradled in the ocean, connecting with the natural world. Looking out to sea you learn to understand the weather patterns that generate swell and the underwater topography that creates waves. Watching the surf for hours, following the peaks and take off points as they move with the tides. Identifying the channels that create the rips that trouble swimmers but give you an assisted pull out to the line up. Rich in poetry and metaphor, surfing demands its own pace and dynamic. From the battle through the surf to the back line, the calm of the deceptive swell as you wait for your wave, the exhilaration of the drop into the wave and the joy of riding across a glassy face. Then you return – out the back. Finding your place in the line up, drawing breath, waiting.
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