Walking out the nose on a perfect longboard day on the Washington Coast. I surfed very regularly until my son made his first all star team at 9 years old. That same year, we broke ground on a house built in the dunes near my favorite sandbar. And yet, I have surfed less each year since. Ironic. But then sacrifice is an surprising ingredient in the well-lived life of a parent. Besides, I still manage to paddle out a few times a year and have yet to lose my groove. With the boy hurt now, I might find a couple of extra days in the waves this summer. The thought leaves me content.
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