Hello Sunshine

Saturday morning I stood in the kitchen and watched Sara hold our baby (who's not really that much of a baby anymore) and coddle him in the morning light. 

She cleaves to the responsibility of motherhood more deeply than words can describe. It's inspiring to be with someone who loves with so much empathy. It's a love which often overrides the human desire to sleep or even eat. She's literally given everything to our son all the way down to her very own body and my hope that morning—as I stood there admiring their silent conversation—was to capture it forever. I know that these days won't last.

I think we're getting spoiled here in California. If if goes more than a week or two without sunshine or decent weather I start to feel super stir crazy. It's been raining for weeks and weeks now. Everything has flooded and the ground feels like a soggy sponge. California's been in a drought for so many years now that the thirsty earth seems confused on what to do with so much water.

This week the clouds finally turn off their faucets and the sun climbed it's way back out into the teal blue sky. It was a long tough winter (insert sarcasm here).

We ended the week with a trip to Santa Cruz with Sara's parents, who are hiding here, away from Idaho's winter tundra. They're renting a house a couple miles from ours. We've loved having them close and Theo is clearly one lucky boy to have such big-hearted grandparents. He may or may not be getting spoiled on a 24/7 schedule. 

While the grandparents explored tide pools with Theo, Sara and I paddled out into the murky water to catch a couple waves. The rain runoff has turned the ocean into chocolate milk. You can't see down more that 10 inches before the silt swallows up your fingers. This didn't psychologically sit very well with Sara, knowing that there may be a couple big fish swimming around out there with us. Sharks (usually in the summer and fall) tend to frequent Santa Cruz.

Once Sara overcame her mild panic attack and realized that neither the sharks, nor the waves were going to end her life that day, we had a great time! I finally saw a smile creep across her face after she paddled hard and caught a clean wave all on her own. The waves were small but oh it felt so good to be back in the ocean and to surf as the heavy sun sank into the Pacific. 

We played around on the waves for a couple of hours. By the time the sun was gone Sara was determined that she was dying of hypothermia, so we headed in. We both caught the whitewash and rode in next to each other on our stomachs. Our boards grazed over the shallow reef and in Sara's eyes lit up like a giddy child. Life is hard but there are little moments with her that seem like they couldn't get any more perfect. Surfing has an amazing way of putting everything in perspective.

I'm sure you'll hear a lot more about my thoughts on surfing as the weeks progress but man!—it is amazing. I once heard it described like this:

“Surfing is like balancing between the gravity of the earth and the pull of the moon. It’s a sport you need to understand at a cosmic scale.”

This art of finding balance through a surfboard tickles my soul like very few other activities can. Skiing deep powder is probably the only other past-time that compares to capturing spirituality, sport, and freedom all in the same breath.

Anyways, let's just say it was so great to be back in the cold ocean and to feel the sun again. I couldn't ask for a better weekend. 

Thanks for reading. Have a great week!