It was easy to spend the greater part of a morning watching wave after wave come ashore along Ocean View Boulevard in Pacific Grove, CA.
On this day, I was attracted to the spray that rose from the waves, creating an additional source of wonder in the scene.
Transfixed by the view, I could hear Otis Redding singing:
"Sittin' in the mornin' sun, I'll be sittin' when the evenin' come." While neither "sittin' on the dock of the bay" nor "wastin' time," I was imagining myself singing that song while sittin' on the shore of the ocean. As the waves crashed across the rocks,
I could hear the voice of Kate Smith singing "To the oceans, white with foam" and felt that God had truly blessed America with an oceanside view like this.
But back to the "dock." I have often imagined myself as being one of Gladys Knight's Pips. In my mind, I am an amazing dancer with a fluidity in my steps that even amazes me.
With this imagined skill on the dance floor, I believed I could transfer it easily to maintaining my balance on a surfboard.
So as we watched the surfers riding the waves,
I could see myself, with the waves well over my head,
skillfully guiding the board in an effortless manner, heading through the surf toward the shore with shouts of what I thought was "Go Dad" urging this older man on to the completion of a successful run.
Only after reaching the shore did I realize that the shouting I heard was actually
"Hodad." I soon learned that "hodad" is a surfer's term for someone who hangs out at the beach, but who is definitely not a surfer.
Amazing. Even in my own fantasy, reality breaks through.