Sunday I went for a long bike ride out along the California coast. While taking a break, I saw these stones, one kept apart by a police barracade, and on the other side of that, waves, and past that, dense fog through which the sun did not shine.
As my seniors at school (and at home) prepare to launch out on the quest for college or whatever is next for them, I am reminded of all they must go through, climb over, sneak around, or simply endure to get where they want to be.
Standing there on those cliffs, looking out at the ocean and its waves, I saw the surfers riding them with obvious joy. What are obstacles to some are opportunities to them. They seemed to be saying, as they cut along the wave, Come on in! Ride the wave that would otherwise ruin you.
Whitman wanted to start surfing lessons last week but found he was the only one who signed up so they canceled the class for now. I was disappointed, of course, but watching those surfers on Sunday, I thought about Whit and those waves that keep coming at him, and how he just rides them one after another with a calm, quiet courage that comes from overcoming what would take another into its wet embrace.
What are these obstacles made of but water and air, fog and sand?