The Treat of Being at the Coast

Rockaway Beach. Lytle Lake on one side and the Pacific Ocean on the other.

When I first arrived, I noticed a person standing outside admiring the ocean. They weren’t moving. Turns out that there’s a pair of statues.

The Oregon Writers Colony house is acute little house with a quaint log cabin interior. Cozy, but with enough room for eleven women to gather for a writing retreat.

I couldn’t have asked for a better evening for my first adventure. There’s always so much to look at. I could spend my entire week here writing words to go along with the plethora of photos that I’ve taken just after one day. The hardest part is that there’s so many more photo opportunities out there. Writing about the ocean, using “old” pictures isn’t near as satisfying as being out there, especially when I am looking at the ocean from a window.

The ocean is like the etch and sketch of the universe; tracks washed away to make room for gifts from the ocean.

Perhaps if I got to the beach more often, I wouldn’t be fascinated by everything that I see. I’d probably have to live near the ocean for that to ever happen. It’s not a terrible thing to be interested in the bits and pieces left over.

Beauty, they say, is in the eye of the beholder. One person’s weed is another’s delight.

 

 

 

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