Lines on the horizon.
Stacked in sets of twos and threes.
Rolling toward shore.

Young men running to the sea.
Focused. Intense. Smiling.

Lines on the horizon.
Pounding shorebreak.
Thump. Thump. Thump.

Smell of board wax, taste of salt.
Excitement in the air.

Lines on the horizon.
The ocean pulsating and alive.
Men and women reborn.

Scratching, climbing over breaking waves.
Rainbows in ocean spray.

Lines on the horizon.
Paddle. Paddle. Glide.
Catching the pulse of the ocean.

Board and wave beneath my feet.
Riding a wave of joy and ecstasy.

Lines on the horizon.
Santa Cruz. Monterey Bay.
The fall swell arrives.