A Sleep Story

A hushed symphony of chirping birds begins.

There are swooshing sounds. The faint crashing of waves plays in the background.

You are feeling very sleepy.

 The perfect wave

Cars roll languidly down the winding Kamehameha highway in the mellow glow of the evening. The sun, not yet set, hangs low in the slowly silvering sky.

You’re driving down the highway and decide to open your windows and let the evening breeze in. The heat of the day has subsided and the air is cool and relieving on your warm skin.

You take a long, deep inhale and breathe in the fresh and faintly briny scent of seaside air. Then you exhale, releasing any lingering tension from the day and settling into the moment.
You look out your window and see that the magnificent banyan trees are starting to come into view. As you drive along further, their leafy crowns and sandy-colored aerial roots come into view. These roots, which drape and cascade over one another toward the damp and ruddy earth telescope out from the branches in search of moisture and nutrients.

You slowly inhale, taking in another deep and relaxing breath. This time you catch the light scent of cold water flowing down from the green painted mountains, the floral fragrance of the native pili grass, and the deep, lush aroma of the greenery that seemingly proliferates all around you. 

Catching a ride on the breeze are the low whistles and melodic chirps of songbirds. Some are perched high in the swaying palms, and others rest in nests formed discreetly in the bushes and low-lying shrubbery bordering the sidewalk. Each bird flutes out their song, hoping to get in the last word before settling down with the sinking sun for sleep.

On the ground below these lofty perches, bicyclists peddle swiftly along the flat path that traces the line of trees to the ocean.

The sidewalk is strewn with fallen leaves that crunch satisfyingly beneath the rubber tires and floppy sandals of folks on their way home after a long day in the sun. 

You drive past them, heading in the opposite direction, and make your way to the beach before sunset.
The dense line of trees to your left begins to thin as the clear path of the bike lane dwindles, becoming more and more obscured by sand. Eventually, the lane ends, the trees clear, and the scene opens up into a stretch of idyllic sandy beach that slopes down to the crystal blue ocean. 

Diffused evening light sparkles and dances atop the ridges in the water for as far as your eyes can see until the ocean forms a neat crease where it meets the sky.

The cool sea air swirls in through your open car window and flutters across your face, neck, and arms. The breeze softens as you slow down and pull your car into the parking area.

You see sandy beachgoers packing up with tired but smiling faces and new suntan lines to commemorate the day. They put their beach chairs, towels, snacks, and water bottles in the back of their cars, shut their doors safely behind their belongings, and set their sights for home. 

You arrive just in time to pull into a spot right in front.

Barefoot, you step out of the car, onto the sidewalk, and then tiptoe over to the sand. You sink your feet into the warm, slightly coarse but delicate sand and breath in. Wiggling your toes in a little deeper, you breathe out. 

The comforting scent of coconut and crushed pineapple wafting your way draws your attention to the folks at the nearby smoothie stand. They’re closing up shop for the day and packing up the leftover papayas, mangoes, bananas, coconuts, pineapples, and kiwis.

But not everyone here is heading home.

Like you, a few others are just now getting to the beach too. Some are standing in the sand and surveying the ocean with squinting eyes. Some cup their hands over their faces so as to see out into the distance a little farther.

You, too, want to assess the sea and so pick a shady spot to set your sights from.

Having blown in from a west-to-northeast swell, the waves that inch their way up the beach and then sink back again into the sea have made a long trek. These waves have traveled thousands of miles to find themselves finishing their grand voyage here, on the golden sandy shore you find yourself on. 

You can tell by the serene, undulating ripples that the breeze is light out on the water. You notice that the waves are low today, consistent, and gently rolling in at just a few feet high. 

The conditions are perfect for a calming sunset surf. 

Pleased with what you see, you head back to your car to grab your surfboard and a handful of coconut-scented surf wax. You lay the board carefully on the soft, sandy ground and roll the wax back and forth, from top to bottom, left to right, and back again. You cross-hatch diagonal and perpendicular lines of wax across the slippery surface of the board. Top to bottom, left to right, and back again, creating a coat that will keep you from slipping on the even, glassy surface of the board when you get into the water.

Once you’ve finished applying the wax, you close the trunk of your car until it clicks shut and tuck your car keys into a secure, secret pocket in your surf shorts. With all your belongings safe, you grab your board, tuck it in the crook of your arm, and make your way to the dunes that sweep towards the shore. 

As you’re walking, a dazzling red dragonfly catches your eye. It hums a low tune as it flys over the dunes and makes its way to the shade of a leaning palm tree. The dragonfly darts out of sight as you slide easily down the dunes, your feet sinking and rising over the mounds of soft sand. 

You’re near the water when a cluster of long-legged shorebirds scuttles up from behind you and towards the tide. 

Sanderlings, or hunakai – are small, with dusty grey and brown feathers and snowy white bellies. You watch when, as the tide recedes, they rush into the tidal area to look for food hiding in shallow burrows. Mollusks, insects, and aquatic invertebrates all shelter beneath the fickle protection of the ebbing tide. 

The birds, knowing their window of opportunity is as brief as the tide will allow, approach quickly as the water recedes. They listen for the sound of something good to eat beneath the surface and peck their straw-like beaks at the sand when they find something. The birds have only a few moments until the next rush of water rolls in, and they’re forced to retreat. 

Sunset is the sanderlings’ favorite time to hunt, eat, and socialize. And it’s easy to see why. The crowds have gone, the ocean is speckled with only a handful of other people, and the low-lying sun casts long, dramatic shadows from even the smallest creatures. Tiny crawling bugs and minuscule mollusks are suddenly easy to spot with their larger-than-life shadows looming behind them. 

After watching the birds for a few moments, you’re ready to get into the water. You put your ankle leash on, grab your board and approach the ocean. But unlike the birds, you don’t rush away when the water comes to meet you. Instead, you welcome its comforting embrace and take a few more steps in to acclimate your body.
The water feels clean, more cooling than bathwater, and is a refreshing respite from the heat of today. You walk in a little further until you’re knee-deep and can feel the weightlessness of being in such warm, clean water. Water so clear you can still see your toes wiggling in the smooth sand below. 

You take a few steps further into the water, wait for an outgoing current, and gracefully spring onto your board and begin paddling out to the surf break. 

Left, right, left, right. Your body is familiar with the movements. You slip over the waves with ease and glide across the glassy surface. Your cupped hands dip one after the other into the water and push your body swiftly forward with every stroke. 

A few lazily cresting waves are breaking up ahead, so you paddle to meet them. As they break, you slip over the foamy water by pressing your hands into the front of the board, lifting your chest, and pushing upward right as you and your board meet the wave. 

A few more breaking waves approach, and you repeat the movements. 

Paddle, press your hands into the board, lift your chest, and push up. And again, paddle, press your hands into the board, lift your chest, and push up. 

With each wave, cool ocean spray lightly splashes your legs and laps over the board, but your eyes and face remain clear as you set your sights for the surf break. 

You make it past the cresting waves to the calm stretch of ocean where a few other surfers bob lazily up and down in the water. 

You see a few familiar faces and one new one. A kind-looking woman you don’t recognize. But from her comfort in the water, you can tell that though you’ve never seen her at this break, she is by no means new to surfing. You calmly paddle closer and watch as an incoming wave approaches the awaiting surfers. The woman you don’t recognize is already in the perfect spot, so she turns her board to shore and starts paddling strong and graceful strides in hopes of catching it. The wave reaches her, cradles her weightlessly for just a moment, and then she leaps gracefully to her feet. Deftly, she bends her knees and uses her weight to turn horizontally into the wave. She moves rhythmically with the water– swaying, bending her knees, carving loping arcs along the wave, and dancing up and down the span of her board. She tiptoes to the nose and then inches back, presses her bare feet into the board to quickly carve twirling shapes, and then leans back to slow down and settle into the wave. 

After what feels like minutes but could have only been seconds, the wave comes to a rest, and so does she. She lays back on her board and paddles back toward the surf break. Right, left, right, left, still effortless and rhythmic in her movements. You catch her eye, and the two of you smile at one another, a glint of recognition in your eyes.

As if in agreement, the clouds above roll playfully across the quickening sky. 

Dusk hasn’t quite settled in yet, but the bright white clouds are becoming sharper and more defined as their dusty blue outlines display every swoosh and cotton ball curve. To the west, the clouds illuminated by the sun glitter in cotton candy shades of pink, orange, and blueish lavender.

It’s the perfect time to get a wave in before the sky darkens and the stars emerge, so you settle in the sweet spot where you just saw the dancing woman catch her wave.

As you sit on your board, looking out to sea and patiently waiting, something peak its head out of the water just in your line of sight. It’s a young green sea turtle. The turtle takes a few big gulps of air and then plunges back down below the surface. The water is so clear that you can still see them as they swim gracefully above the seafloor and forage among the corals for algae and seagrass to eat. They glide along synchronously with the tide, swaying here and then there, back and forth, letting the current guide them in their search for tasty green things to eat.

There are so many sea turtles in this area that you sometimes wonder if you’ve ever seen the same turtle twice. As if to prove your point, another green sea turtle pokes its curious head out of the water. You stop watching the horizon for just a moment to see what the two turtles will do. This second turtle doesn’t plunge back down right away like the other. Instead, this turtle looks back at you with serene, calming eyes. Their thoughts are their own, as no one can know for sure what a sea turtle thinks about. But there’s something about the peaceful look in their eyes and the many deep wrinkles and creases in their kneck that makes you think it must be something wise. 

Green sea turtles are fascinating creatures. After they hatch on the beach, they make their way to the ocean with only the light from the moon to guide them. No one knows for sure where sea turtles go after they make their first trip from the shore to the sea. But at some point, as much as 50 years later, they simply reemerge. They might show up at the beach they were born on to lay their eggs, or they may appear on some distant coast in search of a coral-covered stretch of the seafloor, plentiful with things to eat.

This turtle here with you now may have been born at this very beach. Or they might be 100 years old. They carry these secrets with them effortlessly and without burden.
You leave the two turtles to their own endeavors when you spot a wave rolling in that just might be the one for you. You read the wave, assessing its height, speed, and where you think the two of you will meet. It moves slowly towards you, and the water around you begins to react to the pull of the wave. You turn your board toward the shore and start to paddle. Left, right, left, right. You dig your hands one after the other into the yielding water and propel yourself forward. 

You consider how many waves you’ve had the opportunity to meet at this point and note how no two have been the same.

While some waves may be reliable, who you’ll be when you meet them is never a given. This evening, you’re inspired by the woman you saw surfing and hope to greet this particular wave with a dance as well. 

You can feel that the wave is getting close as the current tugs you toward it. The wave then draws you into its embrace, gently lifts you, and holds you weightless for the briefest moment. When you feel the wave start to take you, you push up from your chest, bring your front leg forward, and then your back leg until you’re standing. Your knees are bent, your body is loose and relaxed, and the water laps and curls at your feet as you turn your board into the wave. You glide and paint smooth swirling brush strokes with your board. The wave spills slowly and seems to endlessly peel open before you. In no rush, you keep your weight steady in the center of the board. You follow the shifting shape of the wave by making small adjustments with the placement of your feet and weight. Following the water’s lead, the wave encouragingly brings you with it towards the shore. 

Hours go by surely, but really it’s only a few seconds until the wave completes its journey and comes to a rippling rest on the beach. You return to the groundedness of your board and consider what you just shared with that wave. 

You’ve been to this break so many times that it sometimes feels as if you know the waves by name. But really, each wave is unique. That wave you just surfed traveled across vast expanses of ocean, met sea creatures you could only begin to imagine, and experienced the complete solemnity of the sea. How lucky you are to have shared in its last few moments before it bid you farewell on the shore. 

You make your way back to the beach as the sun sets behind you. The water is even more tranquil now, and a light breeze helps push you to shore and guide you on your way back home.