It's All About the Journey
It's a cliche statement even after I tossed the word variations in my mind to convey what I wanted to say, it still came back around. The picture and thoughts started 2 weeks ago. They have been pushed aside with the stuff of life but, they sat patiently awaiting my return to them.
It was an early morning fueled by the weather and surf reports along with the sacredness of a weekend with no work duties in sight. The thought of witnessing the sunrise over the ocean is an exquisite gift bestowed upon those of us who view it as such. Surfing, the only sport that has captured my heart's desire for a solid 25 years without waning and in fact churned a greater passion as the years have flown by, coupled with that sky filled masterpiece spurs a feeling of joy that can not quite be conveyed by measly language. The anticipation of both spectacle and movement leaves me in a giddy frantic rush to the final destination. On this particular morning from my living room window, I could see the colors blooming as darkness started to surrender. Throughout the fifteen minute drive to the beach a fog started to devour the glorious colors. But, unlike the solid gray mass it often appears to be, there were moments of misty ebb and flows. Mist with blackness, mist with pale oranges, gray and pink, as I drove I stopped to take pictures of all these scenes that were beautiful each in their unique way. One over a still back creek.