Dawn Patrol. Dark o'thirty in the morning, tip toeing through the house like a quiet little mouse with the hopes that kid, hubby and animal will not wake up. Coffee brewed, gear packed, car ready to go. Front door open and all is still quiet on the Andersen front. Squeak squeak squeak - busted by the Guinea pig. Quiet piggers! I whisper harshly and give him some lettuce as a bribe, good piggie. The early morning air is crisp and smells delicious with a hint of warmth from the day to come. Dew dropped covered spider webs and birds chirping softly from the redwood tree's above. Ghost town, lights out, no cars - Mill Valley the best way, the only way. Parking lot empty, breaking dawn, waves breaking. Slip into the water, paddle out. One with the waves one with nature. Light breaking, sun up, body cold, shivering back to the car. Heater on, bones warm, coffee hot. View from the dash, deserted beach, gulls flying, waves crashing. Back up, vier from the rear view mirror - sun glow, yellow, golden, warm. Smile on face. Stoked.