3.3.18

Gianna woke up and told me she had a dream that all the sea anemones were dead. We didn't want to believe it was real, so we drove to find some. We did. These little guys are still out kicking, but with the current status of our ocean, we both wondered how long they have.

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We also drove out to check out the surf. Gianna's been dying to try out her new surfboard that was custom shaped for her. So she was pretty bummed when we got there and saw that the waves were way to small.

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Currently, I can't surf because I broke my wrist surfing on February 26th.

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It was completely my fault. I was surfing a steep, super quick right, and I hit my drop perfectly, pumped once and set my line. I couldn't believe it was actually happening, I was in the right place, at the right time. As I was streaming down the face, I scooted forward on my surfboard to speed away from the crashing water at my back. I placed my hand into the beautiful turquoise wall and the world fell away. All I could think about was how beautiful the cycling water looked, how amazing it was to be gliding over sand and rocks that were only inches below me. I was completely consumed by the moment. I didn't realize how shallow I was getting, and the wave closed out on me. It slammed me into those rocks I was once just gliding over. I popped up from the water, eyes aflame from a look into eternity, from a look into the belly of a wave straight from the Salish Sea. Once my adrenaline wore out, I noticed an immense pain coming from my wrist. I figured I should stop for  the day. Once home, it swelled up, and started to hurt more. I got an X-Ray, and sure enough, I fractured my Pisiform.

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I've been hurt a lot. Two blown knees, ankles, feet, fingers, etc. And so this time I'm just stoked that I could still get out and walk. Gianna is too.

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We wandered the tide pools, jumped from rock to rock, embraced the simplicity of a morning walk on the coast. The whole time I was thinking how the Olympic Peninsula is so foreign to me, so diverse, unique, and interconnected. Exploring this area for the past couple months have brought me back to my childhood where I would aimlessly wander green spaces of the midwest. Walk over downed trees, flip over rocks for bugs, and be alone with my wonder at the natural world. Its so simple, its something that's overlooked by so many, but for me its tough to beat.

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