Surfing Reminds Me of What Matters

It’s the simple things I love the most

There are few experiences as beautiful as surfing while the sun comes up. Yesterday, my buddy and I were in the water at 6 a.m.

The ocean was a silky blue grey, as was the overcast sky. I haven’t surfed in a while. I’m decent, nothing to write home about. I just love being out there.

Even if I catch nothing, I enjoy paddling. The exercise. The refreshing cold water healing my body.

The sun remained hidden as it rose beyond the hills across the road from the beach. Pink rays gleamed through pockets in the clouds, casting a delicate patina upon the water’s crest.

I waded in the water; the waves rolled slow; I looked back at the hills, shamrock green from recent rain, reminding me of Ireland.

Nothing could beat this. It’s magic, really.

We got coffee on the way home. The warm aroma filled the car; the wonderful morning — a return to my roots — filled my soul.

This experience was one of several this week that made me grateful just to be alive. An awesome one-on-one dinner with a friend; a jaw-dropping sunset on a walk; just the ability to play basketball again.