be excellent to each other
Sometimes in the morning, when it’s a good surf, and I go out there, and I don’t feel like it’s a bad world.
Surfing is climbing from a warm bed in pre-dawn’s coolness a sleepy drive, coffee and doughnuts at a roadside diner and the clatter of surfboards as they’re unstacked from the car rack. Surfing is the joy of watching a sun rise slowly into the sky. It’s crisp, clean waves, crests blown high by an offshore wind. It’s gray mist, dampness and cold sand under bare feet, the lonely cry of a gull sweeping across silent, brooding seas.
~I always wonder why birds stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on earth, then I ask myself the same question...~
Surfing is climbing from a warm bed in pre-dawn’s coolness a sleepy drive, coffee and doughnuts at a roadside diner and the clatter of surfboards as they’re unstacked from the car rack. Surfing is the joy of watching a sun rise slowly into the sky. It’s crisp, clean waves, crests blown high by an offshore wind. It’s gray mist, dampness and cold sand under bare feet, the lonely cry of a gull sweeping across silent, brooding seas.
~I always wonder why birds stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on earth, then I ask myself the same question...~
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