5'9" Steve Lis Quad Fish. Just wet for the first time.
Seventy-five degrees. Yes, the water and air both.
Hop on the bike and put the board on the rack. Forget the leash, it's a beachy. Wax in the pocket and slaps on the feet. Pedal and glide down Stratford, sliding under a low-hanging branch in anticipation of a head-dip, a cover-up, a micro-tube.
A manicured doormat of grass that sits in front of the sand, framed by city landmark and children's playground on either side. Take the bike onto the sand, tuck it into an eroded sea-cave and grab the board.
A few recognizable faces greet me on the sand, in the surf. A few familiar feelings return to me after a rather lengthy land-locked period. That first duck-dive. Ooh, that first moment of slippery speed. Welcome.
The new digs, a haunt in coastal affluence, has an ocean view and a few trails to the reefs. A bike takes me to the beachbreaks, not too bad on their day. It is refreshing to sense the sea so nearby again. Each morning for the past many I have sen the coastal airshow; fog and a delta of pelicans soaring just over the bluff.
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