First Light

Today is National Poetry day so here’s one of my little ramblings. Post surf, I penned a few words from my observations one morning. There is nothing more mindful, more beautiful than being in the ocean at first light with not a sole around. It’s rare, but when it happens, those are the moments to savour. As I get older, I surf less. I choose when I go and when to avoid it. The numbers have grown and I pick my times wisely now. This was one of those times, Like Matt Johnson in Big Wednesday, I surf, ‘just when it’s necessary’.

First Light
The world seems to alter as I sit and wait
From dark, ominous, gloom, to a glorious golden morning
Fishing boats appear, the marine white captured by the first light hitting the bay
The granite illuminates. The waves crisp, and the droplets of ocean glisten
Looking back, the sand on the beach casts a shadows 
Last nights foot prints become three dimensional
The guls dive like silver bullets, the sun exposing their breakfast below
The threatening sky gone, it’s a new day.