I‘ve had very memorable surf sessions lately. Maybe it’s because the water is so cold that they are frozen into my brain, but I think it’s my new board. The thing slices through cold winter waves like one of those fancy knives artfully ices a cake. It’s that, or that I know how to appreciate each fleeting moment more; the simple mundane beauty of grey water and grey sky and time to myself with both.
The other morning Scott, my dad and I paddled out at a near 6.0 foot tide with swell of the same height; the waves smashing into the cliffs and washing back out to sea like they were part of an assembly line. Most of the beach is a smooth pile of rocks lately. They look even more vibrant when the water soaks into them like a fresh coat of lacquer. You’d never know one of these rocks was sage green or robin’s egg blue unless it was soaking wet.
I’ve been having wild dreams again: Aunt Liz’ cabin, alternate endings to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, imaginary indoor skateparks on mountaintops in Oregon. My mind in the day feels nearly as frozen as my body has lately. I was sick a few weeks ago in the kind of way where my mom had to be there. I could not get up, I could not make Cheerios. Although, there is maybe another reason my mind has been paused: There is a baby. The kind that makes you sick because chicken has skin, nervous to twist your back and hopeful that something so surreal is actually natural.
There is a baby the size of a lime waiting to see the world in September. When I think about where my mind has been, it’s there, focused in, focused forward, wondering where we’re going next.
My life right now is small murmurs of ‘Mama’ after a nap. It’s wanting to buy nothing but bread and couscous and apples at the grocery store. It’s an ultrasound and a swimming baby; closing my eyes to focus on a heartbeat I’ve never heard before. It’s making new friends, loving old ones like comfort blankets, needing both so earnestly; Sprout’s running, climbing, growing feet, her new whine. It’s Scott’s new snore and watching the movie Lion and bawling because I’ve always wanted to adopt too. Our life is all these small moments like the stones on the beach, washing around, crashing together, being misplaced, forgotten and then found again, washed off, shining in the sun.