i arrived midday on a saturday in february, and all i could think of was how pleasantly warm and green my surroundings were. i had shed my bulky ohio winter coat for a layered hoodie and jacket, and set out to explore the wild wild west... the trails of folklore, of lewis and clark, of epic beauty.
i was greeted by friends, who spent time to show me their favorites - spots, eateries, parks, boutiques, overlooks, drinks, rooftops and card games. and then i set off for the misty coast. just outside the city, the terrain became something out of movies. hills became mountains, moss and texture was in abundance, and oh that rolling fog! i've never seen so many shades of green and grey.
the drive was leisurely, pulling over at whatever caught our eye and needed a deeper sense of exploration; a speedy car can never really show you the real abundance of a space. we drove from dotted coastal town to the next, were greeted by elk, went up and down cliffsides, until we reached the spot my best friend wanted to show me most.
this was what he wasn't going to tell me about. this is what I was supposed to see with my own eyes.
and so we started from the top of the cliffs, through the jungle trails and muddy switchbacks, past the mossy bushes; and then a glimpse - but only for a quick second - of the rolling Pacific, until, we finally emerged out of the thick, and over top of rolling logs of redwoods that had been trapped into the cove by high tide and years of rotting. the sun was setting, the soft light made the sand glimmer with gold, the mounds of redwood logs we climbed over smelled sweet and the edges of the cliffside perfectly framed this secret beach. it was pure magic.
i sat there, breathing it in, using all of my senses and letting it all sink in. "stay in the present moment," i kept telling myself, "this is all very real." and finally, the calm, quiet disconnect iI've been needing took over and pacified my mind.
oh, oregon, you've found a way into my heart of hearts. i'll most certainly be back.
