Solitude

"It's not brave to do something that doesn't scare you." - Lena Dunham

This morning I awake to birds singing. I've done this countless times since arriving in New Zealand, but this time was different. This time, I have sand between my toes and salt in my hair.

I feel extremely comfortable here. I feel at home. It feels natural and right, and I am already worried about the day I have to leave because I know I will grow an attachment. I keep reminding myself to ease in to the place and the people, but at the same time I want to dive straight in and let it all rush over my skin, hitting me as hard as the waves I crashed against while body boarding during sunset last night, filling my taste buds with salt water from the sea.

Yes, that's right. We walked out at sunset. Two of us with wetsuits and boards in hand, the other two with beers. The owner of the land - a kiwi photographer surfer, fisherman, etc - and I, threw off our clothes as fast as possible and quickly shifted to our wetsuits, as if we were racing, like my mom and I do when unwrapping packages of chocolate to make fudge for Christmas. I cursed as sandflies bit my bum, which, to my surprise, inspired me to get that damn wetsuit on in record time, beating my companion. Before even zipping up the neck I ran to the water. "Grab your board you (insert silly kiwi insult here)." Soon we were both galloping into the water with giant child like grins on our faces.

I quickly fell behind, being barefoot while he had booties, but that was fine. My head swiveled around at the beauty on both sides of me...at the beauty everywhere. I could have just stood there with my body in only calf deep and stared and been quite content. But the sea was calling. High knees high knees! I trekked on. Past the high sand bank. Past multiple waves. Jogging my memory on how to balance my body properly on a boogie board. Reminding my arms that they do indeed have muscles. I quickly felt fortunate that I've been swimming in oceans my whole life, and am a good swimmer. It now obvious why the owner asked me, "are you a good swimmer?" Hah. Of course. I taught myself how to swim.

The taste of salt in my mouth was grand. I keep replaying that feeling in my head. It was so familiar and it had just been way too long since I'd had that mouthful of sea. That thirst quencher that made me change my mind on whether I wanted a sunset beer.

I only caught two waves, but I was buzzing. The second one pushed out a "woooo" from my lungs, which my beach buddy heard from his board, partly wondering if it was a yelp of fear. "Oh no. Only screams of joy for me." Feeling that wave grab the underside of my board and carry me close to shore, I started to slow down, but I leaned forward, and it grabbed me again, taking me straight into the sand.

I was in a daze walking out of the water, covered in that wonderful salt water. Again, swiveling my head at the outrageous beauty surrounding me. A high five to end the session.