
Laying on my surfboard, I paddle out against the current. I seem to glide across the water easily. The first wave rolls toward me, I duck under it. I can feel the ice cold water stream down the back of my wetsuit. I surface on the backside of the wave, the taste of salt water in my mouth.
I don't have time to catch my breath before the next wave is upon me. It's a constant battle to make it out past the break. Once out far enough I relax and gaze back at the shore. It's a different point of view looking from the ocean. I think maybe this is what it looks like from a sea otter's perspective.
As a new set comes in, I get ready to catch my first wave. I wait patiently for one I feel is right. I see it gently rolling in and I start to paddle towards the shore. As it catches up to me I paddle harder, putting all my energy into digging my arms into the water. I can feel the power of the wave start to pull me as I jump up onto my feet and ride out the wave.
The power of the ocean amazes me. One misstep on my board and I become part of the tumultuous crashing of the water; when up and down blend together and you are unable to determine which is which.