Dashboard Buddha

Today I learned to surf, or at least started to learn.

I had guessed that my blip would be related to that momentous adventure- maybe an action shot or flattering snap of a well wet-suited me. (Hey. A gal can dream.) But no.

I met a pushy seagull this morning as I gobbled breakfast in my car before meeting for surf school. He eyed me from
the parking spot beside mine, then padded to the front of the car to stare me down, demanding a share of my oats. All intent gray eyes and wrinkly knees and yellow beak. Then he perched on my hood, inches from me, separated only by the windshield emanating a deep need for whatever else I was enjoying without him. I profited a train of photos from our time together, but not my blip.

It was after my photo documented day of surf school, that our band of surf survivors stopped at a pub the locals love for dinner, that I ran into a wealth of blip material...a bucket of oyster shells, an abandoned stove half eaten by briar, a really tasty beer... But no, none of them captured the day's essence.

It was this dashboard shrine that held the magic..

What would it be like to ride the miles with Buddha? Apparently, I had only to ask the white kitten leashed and napping in the front seat to learn the answer. But...why ask a silly question like that when communing with surf, surroundings, and seagulls has already provided the wisdom I sought?