Escapism

Been listening to a lot of music that reminds me of Encinitas, lately. I mean, in between listening to the Les Misérables soundtrack over and over again. I think I've been doing this because it's wintry here and I'm just trying to imagine myself sitting in the D Street sand, breathing in the salty, damp air. Smelling of sunscreen and slurpees. Listening to the dull roar of the waves and the chatter and laughter of my favorite dudes.  Hucking a frisbee around even when it gets so crowded we (oops) hit a few people.

One of my favorite things about summers in Encinitas is actually the drive from my house to the beach, via Nick's house, of course. There's always a good soundtrack accompanying the breezy sunshine. I've been listening to these same songs on my way to the beach since the first summer I had a car, I think.

We could let this love be the fading sky

and we could drift all night until the new sunrise

pass me a drink -- or make that two: one for me and one for you

and we'll be free

These are the days that I've been missing

Give me the taste, give me the joy of summer wine

These are the days that bring new meaning

I feel the stillness of the sun and I feel fine

The past is beautiful

beautiful like the darkness between fireflies

Well, I'm on my way

I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way

taking my time, but I don't know where

Well, based on your smile, I'm betting all of this will be over soon

but you're bound to win

'cause if I'm betting against you, well, then, I'd rather lose

Don't stop stop your dreamin' -- let yourself float upon the notion we can work it out 

we're gonna work it out, baby

Go ahead, lose yourself inside this opportunity 

that we're gonna make it right, now

Serious homesickness.

Every time I get close to a trip home (I'll be on the ground in Encinitas in 15 days) I get super homesick in the stupidest way. Like, because I know it's coming, all I can think about all day is my feet in the sand and the sun on my face and the frisbee in my hand and the Rico's in my stomach, hahaha. And I'm so lucky to get to head to the homeland so often. Many of my friends maybe make it back for Christmas and part of the summer (lookin' at you, Fletch) and they somehow manage to survive that. I have these extra opportunities and so I get greedy. I mean, just look at this.

In order to do even remote justice to what the ocean means to me, here's a poem. I didn't write it. Robert Hamma did. I don't know him. But he knows what I feel at the shore.

At this elemental meeting place of earth and sea and sky,
I sense your call to look inward
even as I gaze outward at the horizon.


The waves wash over my feet
and I sink gradually into the sand, 
rooting me in the earth and the sea.


Simply by being here
I know I am part 
of the rhythm of the tide and the energy of the surf.


I am a unique expression
of the endless and varied stream of living things
whose life is your life.


With each wave I sense
the giving and the taking, the tears and the laughter,
the longing and the fulfillment of all living things.


With each wave I am touched
by the constancy of your presence.


And I dare to believe that all shall be well.