#33 and #34: Essentially the same. Slow waist-high close-outs off Wash Rock with the occasional shoulder that make you feel like you were there for a reason. A mushy, slow reason, but at least this one had enough face to it to spark a moment of playfulness. I surfed leashless. These sessions were all about exercise and practice.

I took no surf photos (again), but the day stayed nice and we returned to the beach, Sandy and I.

We took a visiting friend along, loaned him a wetsuit and board. Nostalgia hit me when I picked off a left, reminiscent of that first left in that same cove — the first time I turned and went down the face instead of straight, whitewater crashing behind me. The door opened. Colors deepened. The world sparkled anew. And I get that same joy every time I find myself on a nice wave; it’s always sort of a miracle that I managed to put myself in the right place at the right time and am suddenly on a wave, on my feet, flying, no coherent thought in my head, just “WOW” in its purest sense.

#35: Opted to surf closer to home and rewarded with mushy-but-long lefts and occasional rights. If I’d had any doubts about buying that longboard, they’d have been washed away by this session. Sunshine and easy living; it was that kind of day.