In the world of waves curving crashing in to shore breaking white and clean at three feet breaking and falling over and running up and then more slowly back, mixing with others into a place a time a now where you stand to groin depth where you are reduced to simply only how you can fish with what you have, the sweet rain and warm wind forgotten tasting the salty champagne mist on your lips feeling it burning your face and then suddenly all doubts all pointless thoughts worries and anxieties are banished by a fish that takes and runs hard across the shallow surging surf
This is the moment when all is forgotten – all
