5am: It’s still dark out. We just dropped our third
counterpart off at the airport and are flying down Route
One in silence. Usually, I’m that annoying passenger that
wants music on all the time and channel switch a million
times to escape commercials…but this morning in the early
darkness I welcome the silence. We’re nearing my favorite
corner after La Jolla and I eagerly anticipate it. From out
behind the slopes and slants, through the early morning
glow on the horizon, I see it. The waves crashing only 15
yards from the car. The common relief I always feel on this
drive washes over me. The 5am haze in my eyes burns off
immediately with the anticipation to see the waves. The
windows are closed but through the silence I can still hear
the faint whoosh of the waves and the birds wishing each
other good morning. 20 minutes down the road and we both
silently agree to stop at the donut shop we always pass on
the bus but never got the chance to try. Two giant glazed
donuts, a walk up a mountain of a road, and one right turn
S I X T Y
later and I’m walking down what will instantaneously
become my one of my favorite spots in the world. I’m
usually too talkative, but today the familiar silence of the
last hour feels to cozy to leave, like a bed at 7am in the
winter. After slipping off my shoes and feeling the cool
damp wood underneath my feet, I descend the wooden
stairs to meet the ocean. Cutting through the fog with each
step until the cold sand meets my feet. We find 3 rocks on
the shore and each choose one. We sit silently watching the
overhead surf being carved and maneuvered by the dawn
patrol. The familiarity I felt in somewhere I’ve never been
was unparalleled. I had been living in Southern California
for 3 weeks now and for the first time it felt like home…like
somewhere I’d always been and always would be…a place
I’d come to think, or swim, or hangout with friends. At this
moment I knew I was home and I couldn’t help but smile.
T H R E E
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