I've long felt an affinity with the Pacific Ocean along the Oregon coast and it's erratic weather patterns. As Forest so astutely observed, "You never know what you're gonna get." Growing up, while other things shank as I increased in stature, the ocean remained the same - ever expanding beyond the horizon. The last couple of journeys I made to Portland, Oregon, I failed to visit the coast; only about a two hour drive through tiny towns, vineyards, farms and coastal mountain rain forest. So when I prepared to go to Portland for a couple of weeks at the end of August, I scheduled three days and nights at a beach house in Newport, a small strip of town along the northern Oregon coastline. Fishing boats in Newport's harbor.The house belongs to my brother's mother-in-law, who gave me the bargain rate of, "Just turn on the water and enjoy." As I raised the living room blinds and gazed out the windows, I was greeted by a view spanning four miles of pristine coastline and punctuated bythe Yaquina Head Lighthouse to the north. Luck smiled on me from on high as each day, the temperature climbed to over 70/21 with sunshine and blue skies. The only drawback (challenging opportunity?) was the wind blowing from the north every day after 10:00AM.
I used the time for reflection and some long term planning - a self prescribed personal workshop with breaks for the beach, lighthouse, aquarium and meals. Oh, and the Daily Show's coverage of the Republican National Convention - priceless.
Generally, the Oregon coast is not the beach you go to for swimming or trying to work on your tan - surfers wear full wetsuits with boots and gloves and I'm sure they are still getting goosebumps with every wave that submerges them. The pristine beaches are great for sand castles and walking barefoot, exploring tide pools, beach combing, bird watching and spotting otters, sea lions, seals and, when it suits them, whales. Apparently I arrived a tad early for wale watching, but I have seen a pair of humpbacks there before. Self portrait Crab sand art My signature beach shot Tide pool
On the third morning, I drove up the coast to Cape Kawanda where a solitary sand dune looms over the north end of the beach.Did you ever hike up a mountain of sand? It's much more difficult than normal hiking. Maybe I'm just getting old, but I swear, each step required the energy of five normal steps. It felt like I was running uphill. In reality, I trudged up that bugger at a leisurely pace. That northerly wind didn't help as sand kept swirling into my face on the accent. I kept my camera bagged except when shooting - even though I missed a few shots - to protect it from getting sand blasted. No exaggeration. By the time I left, I might as well have rolled down the sand dune like the children do. I had sand in my pockets, hair, ears and down my back.
After 30 minutes of reading, I was ready to brave the sand, but only just. Sure, it looks warm and sunny, but that water is cold. Those tiny specks are people. I would take this warning more seriously if the fence didn't stop right there. Beyond the fence. The top of the sand dune. Note the sand in the air. Sand art created by wet sand and wind blown sand. Sand art created by sand and my foot.
Crab, oysters, shrimp, clams, all fresh and all scrumptious, yet I neglected to feed your eyes. Sorry about that. If you go, try the world famous clam chowder at Mo's. Order it in the bread bowl. I thought that meant rain. Warning: don't shoot and drive. Maybe I shoot better while driving. Yaquina Head Lighthouse at sunset.
I expected the cloudless nights to reveal the stars and the Milkyway, but even without the coastal fog, the mist in the air managed to inoculate the sky from all but the brightest of stars. Still, the sunsets delighted. Beach houses
I tried to create some images that condensed the ocean and conveyed the feeling of an abstract painting. I finally left after cold and hunger took over my mood, sure I was missing some incredible light.
Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak. - Will C.