A warm glow shapes the dawn horizon. We wake early. It’s an ancient ritual. Full of optimism, we dream of a collaboration between Mother Nature, and the tumultuous sea; searching for inspiration, the white whale, the perfect wave.

We are nomads of the coast, scaling mountain tops and riverbeds. Distorted islands dance like shadows in the distance. Waves and winds roar in perfect harmony. We surf because we’re optimists. Searching for the moments when time stands still, convincing ourselves that those rides will be enough — that we won’t want more; that we won’t scout the horizon for the next day’s break.

For it’s not until we feel connected that the journey is complete. One with ourselves, and the sun red on our skin, we travel with nature and disconnect from the digitalworld — if only for a moment, we know it’s a moment of reprieve.

So we wander, and we surf.

This is Rhythm. Tune in.

After the morning surf, we had no place to be.
We hit the local roads and explored the coastline stopping at small towns for pot coffee and toasty pies.