Dec 02, 2009 03:54
When you drop in on a wave, everything suddenly hits slow motion. I can't begin to explain it. From the outside, it all seems to happen in less than a second: a quick paddle and a jump up. But as it is actually happening, I swear, time slows to the gradual pace of the wave breaking around you. You listen to the ocean, you feel your board for the right time, and your stance is a slow raise; it's all a response. You can't stop too early, or the wave will pass you by. Its that moment when your speed matches up with the wave. You're One with the ocean. And suddenly, you're surrounded by this great force that takes you from underneath...how do I explain it?
On Wednesday I went to Sano on an extremely slow day. Couldn't catch shit with my board; should've brought a longer one for those tiny breaks. But this one wave... I can't get it out of my head. You see, I went out to the water just before the sunset, and at Sano, the ocean is wide and clear. Its just you and the setting sky. This wave I caught glistened with the golden reflection of the sun. Time slowed, like it does, when I dropped in. I just felt all forces surrounding me with the break. But how can I explain that feeling of the moment between then and the moment I finally gave in?
Tonight under the full moon, the cold winter air, and you and I. Sometimes it happens this way before we say goodbye: times slows down a little. I can't explain it but I feel us both at the same pace...connected, almost. We laugh, we reach to this level of understanding. Suddenly it gets quiet and all I can hear is you and the silence that follows after. You smile and I smile back, and I can feel it all starting to break. We both walk away and I lose it--this moment--but then I stop. Without restraint or better judgment, I realize I just want to hold on longer. I turn to you, and watch you continue to walk away.
How can I describe this feeling?