John & Anne Wiley

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.

3115 Tortured Stone

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.

3128 Resting Head

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.

3131 Silent Fall

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.

3134 Hidden Cave

As we pass another rock face the trace left by countless birds looks for a moment like white hieroglyphs from people long ago.

3161 Rock Art

When cliffs yield to dunes, our shadow fleeting across the sand impersonates a giant seabird startling the small creatures huddled in the grass.

3172 Passing Shadow

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.

3176 Familiar Arches

Placid tidepools and foam whirlpools offer a hypnotic serenity that pulls a sigh from me, remembering this contemplative passage.

3197 Placid Pools

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.

3241 Soft Place

A magical dune from Arabian dreams mixes water, trees, and rippling sands to enchant the weary traveler.

3434 Dream Oasis

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.

There’s an old tune I used to enjoy with a line something like, “I will fall to the earth, and root like a rose, in the soft land that gave me my birth.” I felt that just now looking again at the last of the pix I’m going to share in this post. I’m a California kid, and maybe that’s why I love every sort of terrain. Having just flown thru so many spectacular mountains and across the edge of the vast prairie, there’s still something special about seeing the coast after being in regions that lack the embrace of the ocean that gave us birth. Our day started with exploration of Olympia, state capital of Washington.

0379 Boats Buildings & Birds

There’s some fanciful art and architecture in the downtown area, and we enjoyed wandering it on the excellent little trolley and on foot. Before long we saw it again from the air taking off to continue our migration south. Soon we were nearing Astor on the coast, where the river widens out into a vast estuary and some sort of houseboats or fishing docks are moored in the shallows like links in a chain.

3097 Estuary Chain

We took a shortcut to the sea, angling southwest rather than follow the river. Here’s one of our last looks across hills and mountains, enjoying those shapes and the colors dominated by green.

3100 Soft Scene

As you may have noticed, the morning’s inland solid overcast had begun dissipating into the welcome and ever larger patches of open sky in aviation forecasts for our route. Suddenly we burst out over the coast at Seaside, and inhaled deeply the fresh sea air and the sight of happy beach goers.

3103 Beach Playground

Not more than three minutes later we rounded this small prominence and gasped at the view of our next few hours’ flying, garnished with fluffy clouds and graced with a hint of healing mist.

3104 Sand & Foam

So I looked it up and I think the version of that song I recall was by String Band, and it was written by Emmylou Harris titled Root Like A Rose. Here’s the rest of that verse:

Take me home

to the sand and the foam,

where my dreams still walk in the mist.

I’ll fall to the earth and root like a rose,

in the salt land

that gave me my birth.