Now that I permanently live a mere nine miles from this barnacled wharf, where tourists and locals flock daily to soak in the fresh ocean air, dazzling unbounded views and cool crashing waves, I wonder why I take this sacred spot from my early days for granted. Venturing here on Sunday was an anomaly for me. I left the out-of-the-ordinary heated temperatures of SLO City behind me, and drove south into the warm yet refreshingly cool, breezy Pismo weather. I found the pier alive with activity, with the festival Wine, Waves, & Beyond in full swing. This day brought a longboard competition on the south side, proceeds benefitting The Association of Amputee Surfers.
Wipeout! Look closely for the flailing feet!
I felt safe and content on the shore, soaking up the view.
Later, as I waded in the crystal-clear, revitalizing water splashing under the pier, I thought about where I've been and where I am now.
I've come full circle. And I can still hear the ocean—even without my shell.