The summer of the surf has come and gone. We are in the north and the season has turned. Fall, for years eagerly anticipated, now reluctantly accepted. We miss the shore, the surf. The sea has now become powerful and cold. Those with more history riding her waves eagerly await this time of year with pained patience, like a cheetah watching her prey. While they brave the icy waters and reap the rewards of hurricane swells and head high sets, we thrill in a little bit of kinship.
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The lineup, © 2013 Hilary O'Connor
all rights reserved |
Our boards are now carefully stowed for the winter. Safe, but not forgotten. Oh no, not forgotten.
We have just begun...
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