Late in the afternoon, we walked down to the beach. I carried the surfboard past the rocky shore to the sandbar where we waded into cold lapping waves. We watched the surfer's daisy yellow rash guard make a zigzag pattern as he bobbed up and down riding the wave to shore. It was the way I felt at ease the entire trip and could have stayed in the water then on the beach all night. Long enough for dinner and a campfire anyway.
