Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Surfer Girl

While it is true that I grew up on the wide open ranch lands and prairies of Texas I terribly miss the coast; the beach; the ocean. My heart indeed belongs to Texas. But my soul soars for Virginia, Florida, California, Hawaii. So displaced am I now that I sit and listen to the Cascades, the Beach Boys and Jan and Dean and think often of Waikiki...Huntington Beach...

Because I know she is out there. My Surfer Girl.

I met the Surfer Girl, as I fondly called her, years ago. She was young then, as she yet remains to me now, blossoming from some intractable natural innocence. My eyes blinded by the brilliance of the coastal sun, she could have walked out of heaven for all I knew when she stepped from the waves, board in hand, right up to my spot on the beach.

I remember her accent. But I can never place it in memory. And I recall that she was looking right at me, right into me. I was just a dumb kid then, full of fantastic notions about my future and a hundred or more idle daydreams any other teenage guy might carry with him to the beach. At that age you're sure that you know everything when you really dont know a damn thing at all.

Moments are like spun gold. And you never know their value until you reflect upon them. All I remember is that Surfer Girl standing over me with her board; the sun and the seabreeze dancing together in her hair.

I had been staying with some friends for a while and I was awol. I was plundering the stores of my youth with reckless abandon...and loving it. Every day I went to the beach, soaking up the rays, playing volleyball and haplessly attempting to meet a girl just like the one who had just met me.

There is beauty in the world. And then there is beauty. And something about that surfer girl, beyond her golden hair and tanned skin, was remarkably beautiful. I would spend the afternoon in her company there on the beach. I spent the evening sharing stories with her and holding her in my arms looking out to sea together...watching the sunset and waiting for the stars to come out to play. And I spent a long, memorable night with her as well, falling effortlessly in love with Surfer Girl with bated breath held over the sounds of rolling waves.

When morning came, Surfer Girl and I watched the sun come back around for another spin. Then she looked into my eyes with a kind of melancholy, looking back over her shoulder at the waves coming in. She managed a kind of smile. And one last kiss...and a whisper.

Surfer girl picked up her board and bounded off towards the sunrise, going back to heaven where she came from I guess. She hit the waves and I made my way back.

Some things are perfect as they are. And some truly free spirits even more so. 'If you have ever lived at all then you know what it is to have lived a lifetime in an evening. And that's good enough isnt it?' That's what she whispered to me.

She was right of course. The world keeps turning. Surfer Girl keeps surfing. And all we ever really have are moments. If we make the best of them...then we have life, and love.

"One day...you'll find that I have gone. For tomorrow may rain...so I'll Follow the Sun." - The Beatles.

Off to the waves...


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