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  • Last week, I stopped to watch some surfers, while I was out collecting the mail. Surfing is, to me, such a prideful sport, especially on days when the waves swell with might and importance. To think you can surf this force of nature - does that not smack of hubris?

    It is easy to take the ocean for granted in San Diego, despite its glory. Never far removed from the water, I now work less than 10 yards from the sand. I can dip my toes into the Pacific any time I need a break from the humdrum of office life, and I will never tire of hearing the breaking waves over my typing.

    But. It’s both beautiful and mercurial. Last week, we had some of the calmest waters I’ve ever seen. Today, the waves are enormous, and the water is the steeliest blue imaginable. It has the most glorious moods; it is destructive, calm, and beneficial.

    A few months ago, the red tides came to visit, and they put on an unbelievable show. My friends and I stood on the pier for a couple of hours, squealing as the water crashed and sent off waves of light so electric, so neon, so “you need to see it to believe it” blue. The four of us were in sheer awe of Mother Nature and her simply tremendous beauty. The number of times we uttered “I can’t believe it”, “this is amazing”, “holy crap”, and so forth are really insufficient to describe what we saw.

    It was, in a word, breathtaking.
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