My Bird Friends

When I walked outside yesterday,

they had all come.

The fat robin, the sparrows,

the preacher bird,

even the pygmy woodpecker

with her snow dappled back.

All of them, gathered round, as if to yell

Surprise!

I spread my fingers.

They scattered, but not too far--

one to the lamppost

another to the maple bough,

another still to the power line.

Whether they had simply come

now that the storm had ceased

or they truly came for me,

I don’t know.

But in matters of science or magic,

choose magic.

Forever choose magic.

This Is the Time I Have, so This Is When I Surf

It’s lovely that people can choose when to surf based on the forecast and once maybe every two months, I get to do this in a limited way, get to pick Saturday morning over Sunday morning, say, and it’s lovely. Charmed.

But most of the time, I’ve got a sliver of time I’m carving out between dropping kiddos and leading meetings so I’m going in the sliver of time that I can seize. Whether the wind is up, whether the seaweed has overtaken the beach, whether I’m solo or with a friend, I’m going. Because that’s the time I’ve got.

Although all I want is to be out there for every glassy, windless 2-3 foot day, with no need to wear a watch because I’m not on anyone but Triton’s time, only being able to go when I can go means I enjoy it more when I score and it’s perfect. Going under any circumstances also challenges you to learn how to have fun and surf even when the conditions are less than ideal: The period are five seconds. The waves are clumpy. It’s low tide in a high tide spot. No matter. I’m in the ocean, my phone’s down, and I’m on my board. Life is pretty good.

I’ve never been a very fussy surfer; it’s always fun to me. But now, those days where I arrive and maybe even the forecast was wrong and I’m staring at rippling glass and tide rising, well I feel like I took the moon.