Newport Beach is cold when you get out of the ocean at 6 in the evening, not like Maryland at all in fact in MD that is my favorite time to swim. There was no sweatshirt in my bag. All the surfers have wetsuits on here and the people chilling on the beach, other than one older guy who I spotted as soon as I stepped on the sand, are from out of town. In OC I could always tell the locals, pick them out easy on the beach, in the water, in most any crowd.
Mike told me on the phone the only reason to live here is to surf. He's right, obviously, and that was clear to me in less than twenty minutes strolling along the Coast Highway in his town. There are other towns though, ones he's suggested, and ones I have a mind for all my own. He is such a dear, he did and said little things last night that only someone who's known him as long as I have would've appreciated and my heart tickled with what it means to be "home". How much it's people as it is zip code, too. And my brother's friends and the charm and laughs they so easy blend have always granted me instant access to that settled sense. He either is a good host, or good at anticipating needs, or both I guess because he gave me his room and let me drop all my stuff. I needed, need, to decompress, to let out some inner-held outbreath, and recalibrate now that I am next to the California Pacific where I for so long have wanted to be.
It was last night, riding bikes in the dark along a side street beside the sea, like being inside a waking dream.
Meeting Monique on the central coast this weekend, she has a gig at a winery turned to a combo Bon Voyage party for her sis who's exiting to Paris. The adventures surely are more to come~
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