Blackberry picking is not for the faint of heart. The thorns tear at your flesh and grab your clothes as you reach towards the dark purple fruit. We scout out our spot and drive by watching, waiting for the perfect time to start picking. Blackberries grow everywhere, invading parking areas, crumbling asphalt, pushing up between the tiniest cracks. And yet we love the tarte fruit. Blackberries scones, waffles, and jams are all on the list. We fill our recycled ice cream buckets full of the berries. It takes maybe an hour if that. All the while plans are being made in our heads for blackberry cobbler for dessert that night. I stop picking thorns out of my thumb, disentangling my clothing from the long thorny vines. My fingers are purple and red stained from juice as I pull over ripe berries off their clusters. The heat bakes the berries and releases the aromatic sense blanketing the abandoned lot with sweet fruit smells. All this enhances our anticipation for what will come out of the oven later today.

I love my flower pots this year.  I stuck with a color theme, green, white and  hints of red or pink but not as flowers but in the leaves.  In each of our pots with the light poles, John planted a geranium or two, some petunias, allysium, and a perennial.  The perennials were all different.  One pot had a fern and that was in the pot with the most shade. Then I planted jasmine so that it would crawl up the pole.  The 3rd pot had thyme and the 4th I planted rosemary.  The annuals filled in the pots while the perennials had time to fill in.  The front pots were amazing as well.  I kept to the same color scheme.  John really knows how to keep plants alive and he made it beautiful. 

The early morning mist floated off the ocean in the morning towards the hills only to return in the evening as it was greeted by the sinking sun. The water glimmered with sparkles as the waves licked the sand. As the sun slows rises or sets, the waves and sky take on pastel hues of pinks, purples and oranges. I try to get out and walk along the beach in the evening and in the morning. For some reason I find quiet in these moments and yet the ocean is never quiet. It is loud, continuous, pounding even. And yet there is a quiet serenity that calls to me and quiets the inner turmoil. There is space here where the sky is big and it mingles with the ocean. The colors compliment though there is a sharp contrast of dark and light it works in a soothing way. For the week that I am here, I soak in these views not taking it for granted and vow to enjoy the views at home like I do here and then I let the busy-ness overtake me and forget until I see these views again.

When we first started going to Cannon Beach, we played in the water running in and out of the water as the waves licked their ankles. They chased seagulls and splashed around the tide pools.  As they grew older, we added skim boarding to our water play. They watched videos of tricks and worked on jumping on the moving board at the beach. Thinking the next year they would be better. A couple more years went by and we graduated to boogie boards. We found the best save play beach is at Ecola State Park, just a few miles from Cannon Beach. The surfers haul their gear, often times building small fires to warm up and setting up camp net to the cliffs. Donning wet suits, we brave the cold Pacific waters to ride the waves into shore. Over and over again, the waves crash over us as we wait for the perfect one. As soon as we feel that lift, we paddle like crazy with our feet to keep that momentum going. After a few minutes, our legs become numb to the cold and we feel as if we could stay hours in there but our strength is zapped and 20 minutes or so is all we can last, even with wet suits. Once out it is so difficult to get back into the water and yet we do. We repeat that cycle until our stomachs tell us it's time for real food and dinner. We gather our belongings and make our sandy way back to the van, dragging more sand with us that could fill a bucket. We laugh and talk and plan for this next year.  Wondering about better wet suits and more boards.

So this year Isaac has gotten into pickle ball. He has played with a couple of friends and has John playing it as well.  He has pulled Job and his friends into it. This has become the thing to do. So before leaving for vacation, Isaac purchased a portable pickle ball net so that he could use the tennis courts by the conference center. Every afternoon and evening, Isaac set up the net, hauled out his rackets, and got a game going. In fact, other guests started asking us if there would be a game later. They played until it was dark. They quickly learned where the lights were so they could continue to play until late in the night.

Smash ball is the perfect beach game. It's light weight, portable and easy to set up. We were introduced to this game at various church events. We hauled this contraption down to Crescent Beach so we could play in the sand. Teams were quickly chosen, four being a good number. Me, not being quite coordinated enough to join happily watched and laughed, cheering my family on as they jumped, dove and slammed the ball into the net. The sand added another dimension to the game and there was much banter as the ball would sail towards opponents and teammates alike.  After a few rounds, and different teams, it was time to cool off in the ocean before playing again.

Two vans, not quite alike but together.  A symbol of friendship that spans the years cementing kids and parents together as we walk through difficulties and celebrations. Sometimes paths don't run parallel anymore but the core is still there. These vans also show an end of a season as kids grow and move.