The carpark is empty and the beach is bare. It looks so much more beautiful without it's usual rash of human activity. There is now enough light to see the waves. Line upon line of swell pushes it's chest forward and curls it's white lip, tipping it's chin and rising up, gathers all its might and clubs the beach. It's that size that makes me feel fearless. Small and clean. I get into my suit and am just pulling my board out of it's bag when Pims Landrover pulls up along side. Pim and Pepper jump out. Good morning!
Out back it is tubing, spraying from it's lip.
I hug Pim but can't wait around for him to suit up. The sand is black and cold. I am the only human on the beach. Piha feels small, and beautiful, the way it is meant to be, relieved of it's affliction as a sunday holiday park beach resort.
The cool water trickles around my ankles and lures me in and in. Dawn is seeping into the sky. I am here, now.
I fling myself onto my tummy, my board under me is a faithful friend. Paddle out to the middle and catch a small wave straight off and stand, ride, ride. Back to the beach. Pim passes me with his 9footer and heads straight out back. Surfers in their suits are all hopping down the bank, their white feet and hands like beacons in the half light, white boards underarm. Most go up around the rocks to the other bay. Must be bigger round there, which is fine, because it leaves me the entire beach to myself.
Dawn. I am absolutely filled with the goodness of this earth and her seas. The beauty is energising. I've never seen piha under this light.
To the west a lilac and soft pink wash overlays a melty, baby blue sky and milky, creamy yellow light streams in from the East over the heads of the Forest trees. In imperceptable increments yellow light leaks into the day.
Day. It is day. Today this is the only day there is and I just saw it being born. The waves are so friendly and calm, even the rip isn't it's usual strength. I ride a couple in. Paddle back out. The air is cool and clean. The water is slippery. It pools and puddles whirs and stirs, never for a moment still, I kick my feet into it for fun, I bob along ontop, use my paddles and feet to turn, go forward, under, through, turn, paddle, rise up.... miss it, bob back down to sea level.
I have to remind myself to look around, look up, look at the sky, the forest, the horizon. Breath in. Smell it. Taste it. When I look at the beach, Pepper is sitting still on the sand, watching me, waiting for Pim. Everytime I look she seems to be watching me. Pepper is the only dog on earth I've ever liked. Most humans, from the shore couldn't pick me in the waves, but pepper somehow knows, and she's watching. I feel accompanied, I feel safe.
The swell drops and the waves are losing their power so I think now I will go out back today. Today. nothing can go wrong Today. I paddle out and dally around, indecisively wanting to catch every semidecent wave, then reminding myself sternly to go out to back line. I can see a group of surfers sitting, waiting for the set and I long to be in their company. Meet their eyes and feel the same, have the same experience, look at each other and know the same thing. I paddle hard. I turn my head to the left and see that despite my paddling I am stationary. A big set comes and I can't make it out.
I give it a few more goes but I'm exhausted. Back line next time I promise myself. Just then I see Pim gliding down a metre of wave, dancing to the top end of his long board, walking to the nose and gripping it with his toes, taking a step backwards to balance. I see him come off and his board shoot into the sky. I turn and catch the next wave in. Work calls.
As I walk up the beach Pepper trots happily over and licks my extended hand. Hello. Then turns and goes back to waiting for Pim. The personification (animal-ification?) of loyalty and devotion.
My body clock is spot on. It's 7am, time to hit the road. I can undress in the carpark and no one to see. I pour a bottle of fresh water over me as way of shower, shorts and hoody on, rinse my feet.
In, engine on, sterio blasts back into life Shapeshifter pours into the car, heater on my feet, foot to the pedal and go.
Again the road is pratically empty of cars and this drive, as opposed to being as usual frustrating, is liberating, like rally driving, especially in this fucking excellent automobile.
It takes me an hour fourty to get to Penrose. Not bad really. Sitting in traffic I tilt my chair back and close my eyes and take red light power naps. Then am overcome by hunger and eat some of my lunch, left over curry, with my fingers (no fork), slopped up on a piece of bread. A kings breakfast. My arms are so exhausted that when I try to get my jumper off it takes two attempts with an energy pause in the middle. ha.
I'm sitting at my desk, just showered and switched the 'puter on. The mobile coffee lady has turned up and she JUST put a steaming hot cup of soya latte on my desk infront of me. The smell of coffee is perfection and happyness coiled around each other. I wait a few seconds, inhaling, the anticipation almost as good as the having.
When I get your email you say this is a horrible week. Yesterday the worst day. How can everything be so wonderful for me, so terrible for you, when we live under the same sky, in the same city, at the same time.
I cannot console you because words are only trite in the presence of grief.
But I do know, sharp as a needle, keen as an axe, that all of the beautiful things that happen, are fleeting, but having them is still everything there is. Like one dawn. Like one kiss. One love. One day. One friend. And one moment of laughing, knees curled to my chest, and making you laugh back.
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