A Penny For Your Thoughts

7. Stinson Beach Sunrise

Sunrises are one of the most beautiful sights to behold. Now if I could only wake up in time to catch one . . .
***

All it took was the emergence of one person for me to question how I spent twenty eight years on this planet without them.

Time seemed to fly by when I was with Penny. I often lost track of time before her presence, but that was due to a monotonous work-first approach that made life tedious and repetitive. Those days felt like a blur because there weren't anything meaning to remember about them.

It was a completely different story when Penny entered the equation. I often lost track of time because every day was an opportunity to make new memories with her. Every day spent together was a fulfilling one. There was hardly ever a dull moment with Penny.

Her arrival into my life was like a splash of paint on a blank canvas. Gone was the mundane cycle of work and home, and in its place stood a whirlwind of unpredictability. Penny was like that. Spontaneous. It made logistical planning - a particular strong suit of mine - nearly impossible, but I didn't mind having one of my strengths neutralized. The thrill of the moment was worth the trade off.

As Penny would say, I was finally living a little.

"Do you want to go to the beach tomorrow?"

That, plus my confirmation response, marked the entirety of one particular phone call from Penny. A conversation spanning a grand total of seven seconds. Spontaneity in the style of Ms. Campbell.

The beaches were a popular destination in the city. Most people went out to East Beach by Crissy Field in the heat of summer to sunbathe and partake in water activities. Some went for the scenic views of when the sun set in the distance, beyond the Golden Gate Bridge, turning the sea and sky into a golden backdrop for the landmark. It was definitely a breathtaking sight and one to behold for locals and tourists alike.

At the turn of the season, however, attendance at these beaches dropped quicker than the temperature. Swimsuits were replaced by windbreakers and parkas. The only ones to frequent the sandy grounds were the photographers who captured everything from the skyline to the shoreline.

September was a chillier month in the city. The winds were particularly noticeable down by the piers. I could feel the breeze during my routine drive every weekday afternoon, when I would finish my work at the firm and drive over to the crab statue at Pier 39. Leaning against the statue, work clothes in hand, was none other than Penny, waiting for me to pick her up and drive her home.

The daily ride was not out of necessity. Penny had her own vehicle, a Volkswagen Golf SportWagen that she claimed was her favorite possession, because it was the perfect car for bringing her surfboard to the beach. She had the option of driving herself around, but because both of us decided that these precious commuting minutes after a busy work day was best spent together, we worked out this arrangement. I wasn't going to complain about having Penny in my passenger seat. That drive was my favorite part about the weekdays.

The weekends were a completely different story. Our interactions weren't limited to the twenty minutes that it took to get from Pier 39 to Arkansas Street. Asides from the days where Penny and I spent time with our respective families, there were plenty of twenty minutes spent between the two of us.

Today was one of those latter days. Penny and I made the hour long drive to Marin County early in the morning when the sun was barely peeking through the horizon, with two surfboards strapped to the top of her car. Our destination was Stinson Beach, which according to Penny, was a good beach for amateurs and professionals alike to ride some waves.

"I've never surfed before," I mentioned as Penny parked within walking distance of the beach.

"Don't worry. I'll teach you."