Last night of winter and a tawny frogmouth is hooting outside in the trees. I'm lying awake at 3AM thinking about my wonderful blood and brine brother GfG who's celebrating a monster milestone today.
A million scenes replay behind my eyelids like postcards stored in an old box of treasures. There he is in countless Kodachromes - sitting on the rocks at Waimea, the pier at Huntington, on the road to mischief and adventure. There he is on p333 of the coffee table surfing book Switchfoot II burying a rail at Granite.
Just seems like yesterday I was treading water at Wurtulla with a manual focus Nikon telephoto while Gfg drags a hand in the wall as he takes off on a Joe Larkin longboard. No eggie. No rashie. Short shorts. Happy Birthday bro. (Sorry I missed the coverup!)