Carmen Teijeira Rodríguez (Profesora de Lengua y Literatura)
To Marina Acedo, who kindly wrote an article about California for this magazine last year.
«They are sailors who know that the sea like life has it rages and can be a merciless monster»1
Sitting on the dock of the bay at West Cliff Drive at Santa Cruz, California, a poetry-loving curious woman recalls this verse.
She is gazing at the sea, focusing on a little black point immerse in a rough sea, a surfer. The swell is strong and it leaves a huge amount of water propelled backwards after its impact on the reef. Large herds of sea lions are moving through the water, they seem to have no other distraction than playing around the fearless man and his surf board. They approach him for a while and then go back to the large and narrow rocky lavishly laden with seaweed, a cliff that marks out the bay on the right.
The young girl´s eye is caught by the sudden movement of the surfer, who emerges from the depth to daintily descend the big wave. She observes the scene wide-eyed, overwhelmed by its contrasts. The crash of the strong wind on the wave seems to stop it, blowing out some water from the crest; a delicate rain that shines under the cloudless light blue sky. The sun-drenched scene is only overshadowed by the presence of a monument to the audacious surfers that have given their lives to sea.
«A moving image for Lawrence Ferlinguetti´s poem», thought the girl; me, who wants to be soon travelling along the coast of California, searching for other mind-blowing surf spots.
1 Lawrence Ferlinghetti: «Surfers are poets too»