It has been way too long since I have been surfing. The strain in the arms as you give that final pull. You feel a push under you that seems so primordial and suddenly you are up and racing down the line trying to get to the lip before it completely dumps and cuts you off, but not too fast. You want to get a little cover up, that view from down the rabbit hole with the whole world exposed.
Every where I look I see those waves. Bends in the concrete of a storm culvert, a roll in a piece of paper. We duplicate them everywhere. Yesterday I saw the foot high stern wake of a passing boat create these perfect rollers along the beach at Lake Grapevine. Perfect curves, long lines, and all less than a foot high but plenty big for mind surfing. If only I was the size of chihuahua I could have a blast.