Around four of the clouds cleared, we were able to see the full moon across the valley.

It was part of something bigger, it was part of a moon.

It was when we wake up inside of perfect swells coming off the point.

And from then on, I said, I will always buy the last round of drinks.

At Patagonia, we are climbers and skiers.

We are surfers and anglers.

We're activists and dreamers.

Stories of the fabric of our share culture and we're proud to sponsor the dirtbag diaries.

Visit us at Patagonia.com.

Peace.

P-E-A-C-E.

What does that word mean to you?

Is it the abstract hand sign you saw your parents flashing to one another in old photos?

Is it the fleeting calm between nations?

On a daily level, I bet you have a more concrete definition of peace.

It's tired bones settling into sleep with the stillness of granite boulders.

It's the calm skin of a lake, the morning's first warmth, peace like a whispering river.

In our day-to-day lives, peace, it's the absence of tension.

It's the all-encompassing moment, the resolution, the destination, the wisdom.

And it can only be reached with struggle, only by embracing the storm.

I'm a patient-patient man, and I have been looking, waiting for the perfect surfing story for almost three years.

You all have been asking for it, and all I could say was patience.

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