Writing

Near Solstice Light

~ tomadaonline ~ 1 Comment

File Dec 17, 7 56 09 PMWinter solstice is right around the corner and the late afternoon light is kind of errie.

My cold/flu/virus/tired-to-the-bone “whatever it is” seems to be waning.  So I walked the 3/4 of a mile to the spot where I’d seen one stand up paddle boarder from my window.  He was still there.

The tide was just starting to ebb so some of the wave’s punch was pulled back.  BUT, there were surfers from one end of the beach to the other.  The light kept slipping in and out of the clouds.  One moment it was on the water, then on the hills, then gone.  I sat on a piece of plywood someone had left on the rocks.  I didn’t take the time to anchor it so I teetered and tottered a bit, which makes shooting video with a long lens a challenge.  There was one guy on a fat orange board who caught one wave while I was watching.  Mostly I was happy to smell the salt air and hear the hollow roar of waves crashing.

I got one shot of the scene as the light lit up the Rockaway Headlands.  That was the last of the light, so I headed home.

First Flirt

~ tomadaonline ~ 7 Comments

This is in response to the daily prompt:  Tell us your funniest relationship disaster story.

I would hardly call her third rate.  We’ve been married 29 years.  We have two sons and a grand daughter on the way.  We have a full life, we’re still in love.  But it did not start that way.  It almost didn’t start.

I was visiting friends in San Francisco, May 1983, to house warm their new home.  It was a wonderful flat in the Richmond District, with bay windows, wood floors, and a garage.  I was planning to meet a specific woman, Maria, whom our host thought I would enjoy.  She arrived with a female friend in tow.  My former house mate Rob showed up at that moment, perhaps with a drink or two under his belt.

“Tommy, Tommy” (he’s one of maybe three people on the planet who call me Tommy)”This is Donna, this is Donna.  She’s the one I’ve been telling you about.”

Donna had beautiful green eyes, a big smile, and seemed pleased to meet me.  I thought she was beautiful but was quickly bewildered by two women and a matchmaker friend.  I excused myself to get a snack, and caught Donna’s eye on the way down the hall.  She smiled.  I told the hosts I wasn’t feeling well, and left.

Rob called, a few days later, and sang me happy birthday.  He was sure I’d really like Donna, and gave me her phone number.  I held the number for a day or two then gave her a call.  We planned our first date.

Writing prompt:  Third Rate Romance

One More Wave

~ tomadaonline ~ 1 Comment

The day before I got married in 1986, my brother who was also my best man, went surfing with me. It was a glorious day at Waddel Creek, a few miles north of Santa Cruz, CA. The sky was blue, the wind gently offshore. The waves were moderate and well formed. We caught lots.

It didn’t occur to me, when I took a toilet break and had the runs, that I shouldn’t have been in the water to start, and it was clearly time to get out. But there was surf and my favorite surf partner was with me, if only for one short outing. So I continued, as my throat felt more ragged, as my lungs started to warm toward a burn.

This past week, some 29 years later, I was fighting a cold. It’s been nagging since I returned home from our three week east coast swing back in October. The waves here have been huge. Way too big for me, but on Tuesday it settled down. I hit the surf, caught a couple of little waves and felt unusually fatigued. But there were still waves so I stayed out. The tide was receding, the offshore wind increasing, and when I finally decided to quit, it was difficult to paddle in. I managed to find the shore and stumbled to my car.

Today my cold is much worse. My body is begging for rest. But I have one more thing to do before I can take a break.

Written in response to the Daily Prompt: Flawed

Thanksgiving Moon

~ tomadaonline ~ Leave a comment

The moon sets bright as

thin lines march from the crisp horizon

toward surfers playing faster

than tunes sung by a gull.

 

Slipping and slashing

they trade their tears

for a fast paced

backside beach break .

 

A single session sends

hatred under the bridge,

while winds of change

sweep clean a

purely present breath.

 

First find one,

then another.

 

PS.  Inspiration to write c/o Run Towards Each Other by Katherine Riegel

 

You’ll Find Me at the Beach (fiction)

~ tomadaonline ~ 2 Comments

You’ll find me at the beach, or thinking of the beach. Waxing my board. Looking at the surf. Deciding which break to ride. I’m a surfer, but I don’t say it out loud. Not like the guys who wear tan jeans, blue pocket tees and black low-top Converse All-Stars. They have tans with blond hair and cruise the boulevard with their boards hanging out the back of their mommy’s new station wagons. Most of them don’t surf. Those that do can’t stand up and turn. We call them hodads. Continue reading →