I spent some time in California.
Dating a few years ago now, but I still get flash backs of those beautiful January days.
I'd wake up early and jet o
There was a familiar strip I'd take just a block north of the ocean.
ut to buy coffee- the coffee in the hostel was usually stale and accompanied by awkward morning conversations.
Everyday I'd see boys pile out of their jeeps and walk barefoot to the beach.
They were ready with their wetsuits on, and surfboards above their head.
In the middle of January somewhere in California you'd see a line up of cars at the crosswalk waiting to let those wide eyed beautiful boys swim in the ocean.
Then I'd sit in La Jolla and watch them wait for waves, clustered together with their feet dangling in the water.
And an uncompromising love for the ocean.