…Turns Good

So that’s the kind of day this will be, I thought. Good waves, none of which I would ride; each would be snared by the superior surfers who lurked in a testosterone-addled cluster at the peak.

Then, inexplicably, all the obnoxious surfers left, probably for their pressing appointments to kick neighborhood dogs or steal candy from children. The sun remained, though, as did the light offshore breeze and the banks of fog at postcard distance. Every surfer was polite and did not hoard, and best of all, the cranky beast of Ocean Beach delivered the mellowest of waves.

Then, just when it seemed that things couldn’t get any better, a foursome of dolphins surfaced, not thirty feet away. Two big ones and two baby dolphins. Baby dolphins.

“All we need now is a rainbow, and an ice-cream cone when we paddle back to the beach,” I told the fat longboarder in the silver helmet.

“Yep,” he said, taking another gander at the dolphins sunning themselves. “Doesn’t get a lot better than this.”