The small two lane street at the north end of town ends at a dead end but before that there is a right turn that leads to Ecola State Park. This road quickly becomes barely wide enough for one car. It quickly leaves town and winds through a typical Pacific Northwest Forest with towering trees, lush ferns and under brush and teasingly points of the ocean peaking through the branches every now and then. The speed limit is slow due to the pot holes and curves and bends the road takes around the hills to the end point where you are spit out into a long slim parking lot at the top of a hill overlooking the ocean. We come here to this beach every year and the key is to show up early, make the trek so as to find a parking spot. Once parked, we empty the back of the van, grass mats, towels, wet suits, food, boogie boards, skim boards, cameras, tripods, frisbees, soccer balls, smash ball and more. We load it up on our backs and arms and make the short little walk down to the beach which google has tagged "intimate ocean hangout with tide pools".  It isn't very intimate as every surfer and their dog is down there. Fires are built all along this sandy beach so surfers and boogie boarders can warm up after being in the frigid waters trying to catch waves.  The south end offers rocky tide pools and a view of Tillamock Rock Lighthouse. While the others are busy at our staked out bit of beach, two of us set off for the south end where the hills come down to dip into the water. We scamper over rocks, peaking beneath the water at the life that wasn't pulled back to the ocean, chatting about nothing and everything in general. I cajole this man cub into taking photos and wonder what adventures and life lessons he will encounter this upcoming year. 

Ever since John bought me this car I have wanted to take it with us to Cannon Beach. I imagine driving down the coast stopping at cute coffee shops and bakeries, lounging on the beach, or going on small hikes overlooking the ocean. This year, John and Lona drove down in the convertible just so that Lona could make it to the Corgi Festival on the beach. Which meant that I took the van and the boys the next day with me. And my car made the first leg of the trip to Cannon Beach. Early one morning John and I decided to drive over to Girabaldi and Mantazama just down the coast a bit from Cannon Beach.  We rolled the top down, grabbed a cup of coffee for the road and started driving. There was no time limit, no agenda, nothing pressing us which allowed us to explore various overlooks, bakeries, and beach access points. We slowly made our way down the coast from Cannon Beach to Girabaldi taking in all the sights. At Girabaldi, I made John pull over so I could photograph the historic Coast Guard Station. Then I found the station's Facebook page and made contact. I was hoping to schedule a tour and maybe ask some questions about life in the Coast Guard but it just didn't work out.  In my mind I half hoped that Job would be stationed here.  It isn't too far away from Bellingham but far enough that I wouldn't crowd him.  We will have to see.

Yes, I live near the coast and yet I go weeks and sometimes months without seeing the ocean.  Technically it's the sound but we have many of the same sea life here as in Oregon.  And yet, for that one week we spend in Cannon Beach, I get out daily to walk or run or just sit at the beach in the morning.  I take that time to really observe the life around me. I sink my toes into the often cold wet sand, hike up my pants and while both myself and my camera wear rain jackets I explore this little beach along the northern coast of Oregon. There are sea anemones, seagulls, barnacles, muscles, puffins, pelicans, sand pipers, starfish, sand dollars, crab, and so much more. Its like a treasure each morning to see what life is there. It often is a time of quiet reflection and observation. It is my happy time. 

My camera bumped on my thigh as I quickly made my way down the street. The street lights flickered on and the outdoor lights of the businesses and hotels were already lighted. I knew I didn't have much time but it wasn't far. Looking up at the sky, the colors started quietly as pastels and it was as if a brush was crossing the sky with more and more vibrant watercolors. The oranges and pinks becoming increasingly darker. The water normally a greenish blue started to take on darker purples and with hints of orange, yellow and pinks. Everything else became darker and black as the sun slowly slipped into the ocean at the edge of the world. The show was over as quickly as it started. The only light left were the electric ones that showed me my way home.

There are things that work out and sometimes things don't.  We took the top down in my car and headed out on a beautiful summer day to Whidbey Island. There is something about an island, a convertible, blue sky that just calls to me.  We parked on this the mainland side of the bridge and hiked down to the water.  The trail led us over a ridge and then around it until we came to a secluded beach where we could lay out and enjoy the view. What really got me though was that I thought I brought an extra battery but I didn't and these four photos was all I got. 

A beater of a boat, a gorgeous day, a large lake and a teenager that wants to wake board. All ingredients needed for a summer day on the lake. Our first outing for the summer. We needed to test the boat to make sure that it all runs, a bit rough but it started. Agate Bay is our favorite wake board and ski spot. The water tends to be calmer there and the lighting is phenomenal. We had purchased a newer board at the end of summer and that needed to be tested as well. We rounded the corner, pulled out the rope, attached it to the back, and grabbed the wake board. These days my job is spotter and photographer. Lona, putting on the life jacket sat at the end of the boat dangling her legs in the water. She strapped on the board, taking a deep breath, slowly slipped into the cold water. We threw her the rope, pointed the boat in the correct direction and waited for he to call out. As soon as John heard, "Hit it", he punched the throttle and she popped right up. A turn or two and she was right back crossing the wake looking comfortable and confident on the board.  We went around and around until she was tired and was ready for a break. Cutting the engine, we drifted while we snacked, talked and swam in the lake. It was time for another go and the engine didn't work.  We looked under the hood, checking all the the usual stuff and realized there wasn't oil in there. That left us on the lake without a way to get to shore. We called our neighbor but their boat was in the shop. We called the dispatch but was informed that they were out on a different lake. Then we called a soccer teammate who lives on the lake. They came to our rescue towing our boat to Blodel-Donovan take out. We hauled it out of the water hoping that it would e an easy fix. And it was. It was just that the oil plug had rattled loose and fallen into the bottom of the boat where it and all of the oil collected. Taking care of that problem, we could confidently put our boat back into the lake. This is only the third or fourth time needed to be towed in.  The life of a boat owner.