All posts tagged: ocean

| to the mediterranean & back |

It had to be done — I had to escape my seaside town for the weekend. With Georgia & Olivia heading east, I decided to take a break from my routine and go with them. Little did I know that I’d be reminding myself of why I originally fell in love with San Sebastian three years ago — The big city smells; bustling, loud, crowds of people; and stuffy buildings had me craving the fresh ocean breeze, chimes of the church next to my house, and the sandy floors that remind me I’m home (and that I maybe need to sweep, too). It’s a weekend I needed away to make me appreciate where I am — because even though I constantly try to remind myself of “being in the moment” and “making the most of where you are”  — I sometimes need a kick in the ass to remember my own words of advice. Despite the hectic crowds, we made our way through the winding streets of Barcelona finding new treasures from hidden coffee / …

| christmas day & the power of a wave |

It’s January 7th and today the academic world returned to their schedules of early morning alarms, coffees, and the notebooks. Myself included as student and teacher. During my lesson this evening I started with a game. Two truths and a lie about what we did during out winter vacations. Mine were as followed: 1) I went surfing Christmas morning 2) I taught myself how to make the Spanish tortilla and 3) I went to the Canary Islands for four days. As much as I would love to have had number two be the lie, unfortunately it was number three. I’m still pale as a ghost and look like I havent seen the sunlight in about four months … oh wait, welcome to winter in San Sebastian! I kid, I kid. But really — I stayed in my beautiful city during my two week vacation and, despite the terrifyingly large waves pounding on Zurriola, Mother Nature sent some choppy 4footers my way. So I paddled out on Christmas day. It was rough. I realized after almost …


It’s 5:54 in the afternoon. It’s one of my favorite parts of the day almost anywhere in the world, but most of all, anywhere near the sea. I wish I could capture the feeling I have at this moment. The fresh, cool air gently combing my hair and sun-kissed skin, sand between my toes and under my finger nails and a hint of sunscreen that burns my right eye. Despite the small annoyance it brings me joy. Although the backdrop is different today, the calm of the hour, the breeze and the setting sun are all the same. Maybe it’s this special hour by the sea, the café con leche I have found myself drinking every day or the Spanish language being spoken around me – but it feels like home. I’m only missing the people I love.  


I got an email the other day from — the subject line read: “It’s been six months since your last trip.” I couldn’t believe it. Six months has already passed since I last booked my hostel in the Canary Islands? I stared at the email thinking about those three months of traveling before clicking the box to delete it. Man, does time fly. It’s now the very last day of July 2012. I just rolled in from the beach, searching for the slightest sign of ride-able waves. Trickles. The surf shop had students floating on the passing baby swells, but it was nothing I wanted to bring my board out into. I parked the truck, grabbed my towel and headed for the water. I needed a good dose of salt water. My mind had been swirling all day with thoughts of visas, moving in October, friends I’ll get to see again and friends I’m leaving in the States. I’ve come to realize a good dose of salt water will really help cure anything. I’ve …


the grass tickles my fingers as my arms lay resting along the ground. the breeze coming from the east. sweeping stray hairs across my neck, my face. my eyes open and close in the bright sunlight. my skin tightens as the warmth is absorbed. i feel my lips. they part and the breeze gently pours into my mouth as my cheeks salivate embracing these new sensations. my lungs fill with a small breath. it falls. it rises. the salt air in my body. in my nose. out my mouth. counting the breaths as they come and go, as the seconds pass. this is maine. this is home.