Penguin Tales

The Tale of Surfer Penguin

 I was sitting in the dimly lit cafe by the beach sipping lemonade out of a large glass, staring absentmindedly at the crashing waves. I replaced my glass on the grimy table and looked around at the empty room. I could still remember what it was like at its peak, always full with customers and tourists visiting from far off places to see the impressive swell in the cove. The heat was stifling and the waves had never looked so inviting, so as fast as could without looking rude I sculled the rest of my drink and walked out into the blazing heat. Locating my board on the empty rack I picked it up and headed down towards the water.

I was careful, making my way to the water as not to step on any children’s sand castles. The last thing I needed was a grumpy adult awoken from their sleep because some penguin had stepped on their child’s sand castle. Before I leapt into the water I stopped and stood still, calculating the breezes and the tides and choose the perfect spot to surf. It took me only a minute to dive out into the waves to my chosen spot. I felt oddly free just floating there, bobbing as waves passed under me. The heat was no longer annoying, but pleasant now that I was in the water.

Directing my board I begun to surf and a flash back came to me so suddenly that I nearly fell off of my board into the churning water. I was only eight and I had just received my first surf board for Christmas. Pushing the memory aside I re-paddled into position as the next wave came. I moved so smoothly that I swore I could be flying! The air whipped through my hair and I was free. I was light. And I was speedy.

Nothing could ever compare to that moment.