The Oregon coast looks wild with the scars of violent geological forces further tormented by raging storms, yet on a nice day like this it’s so calming.
I like how the line of trees marches down the slope toward the sea, shoulder to shoulder to face the weather. The shapes and textures tell tales of torment from wind and sea.
The sandstone point in this one is a giant dragon’s head asleep in the gently lapping waves of this unusually calm Pacific. Further along, a quiet waterfall returns raindrops from their long journey home to the sea.
As we skim past, the sun behind us illuminates a deep cave hidden beneath a hardy clump of gnarled trees next to a vein of colorful rock.
As we pass another rock face the trace left by countless birds looks for a moment like white hieroglyphs from people long ago.
When cliffs yield to dunes, our shadow fleeting across the sand impersonates a giant seabird startling the small creatures huddled in the grass.
Our flight along this shore in the other direction a few days before is reflected in this opposite view to the south past now familiar offshore arches.
Placid tidepools and foam whirlpools offer a hypnotic serenity that pulls a sigh from me, remembering this contemplative passage.
A jumble of soft shapes and colors somehow especially pleasing to my eye almost brings the feel of sand between toes and the whisper of breeze in trees.
A magical dune from Arabian dreams mixes water, trees, and rippling sands to enchant the weary traveler.
Now we decide to stop for rest and to consider where we’ll spend this night. After consulting the gals, various charts and several other sources of information we choose the little town of Bandon. Such an awakening back into this millennium as we approach the welcoming airport. This has already been a day to remember, and there’s more yet to come.
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