Where ocean meets land, where sand meets sea, all kinds of people skirt the edge, less than knee-deep or flinging themselves against waves that seem so tiny but are backed by billions of pounds irresistible pressure. It's not the size but the shape that matters and there was enough today for pretty decent bodysurfing from waist-high start of curl all the way in to the last thin inch where stomach scrapes shore. Look up and watch the rush hour traffic: kayaks, stand-up paddlers, snorkelers, a distant motor vessel. So many ways to enjoy Ocean on a blazing calm day in Kihei but this guy took the cake. With the energy and persistence of a tireless terrier he'd charge a wave, set down his boogie board, plant his feet, then skim up the face, timing perfect to kick 180s on the lip in a flashy splash of controlled movement. (You can see the line of his wake well to the left of the spectator's hip.) He'd recover for a minute, stooped over catching his breath yet watching for the next swell. Then with a burst of energy once more into the breach, running top speed. All in all a splendid afternoon with the Bacon/Kistler contingent fresh in from Seattle at start of a protracted tropical adventure. I understand everyone's got their own thing going but this feels so familiar and perfect I keep asking myself: why live anywhere else?