Glass Off

The wind dies down, leaving the ocean and waves looking like glass. I wax my board.

We stand at the top of the cliff. I see the signs of what will be a powerful sunset.

I begin walking down the wooden stairs with my board safely tucked under my arm. The handrail is worn from salt and wind. The wood grain is split, revealing the aging lines of what was once a tree.

We love a good reef break. Instead of sand, there are pebbles of all shapes and sizes, in shades of grey, green and brown.

Waves roll in at a mellow pace and there is a small break between sets. Nice.

We are alone. People are gone for the day. Parents and children are home preparing for dinner. This is primetime.

We wait for the break in sets and paddle out. I push the water behind me, propelling myself forward. The paddle out is longer than most beach breaks, and I welcome it, knowing the ride will be longer too. We find the perfect spot and sit up on our boards.

The water sparkles as though someone has showered the surface with glitter. Even the best artist in the world couldn't recreate this scene, and I take a moment to admire the beauty.

We see the water beginning to peak. I spin myself around to take the first wave. I paddle as hard as I can, keeping up in hopes of catching the wave and riding it to shore. My board rises, and I begin to accelerate. I have it. All I need to do is stand up.

I pop up, and smile.

The sun has begun its slow descend, but still warms my face. The bellies of the clouds are pink now.

This is the first of many waves that I catch, and there is no shortage today. We take turns catching waves, watching the other ride off in the distance. Between sets, we sit side-by-side, telling each other what the last ride was like.

As sun moves and the air cools, I know its time to go, but not quite yet. There is still time for one more. As I see a wave beginning to form, we spin ourselves around under the blushing red sky and catch a wave home.