Writing 101, Assignment 2 9/15/14
When I settle my mind and daydream of peaceful things I most often am transported to the ‘coast’. A specific place and yet many places at once. So many coastlines to explore; geographical goals I’ve set for myself.
I am most familiar with the dripping beauty of the Pacific Northwest’s diverse coastline; sweeping dunes, mystical rainforests, wide sweeping bays and a myriad of rivers beckon to me, begging me to come explore ancient secrets and dance to the music made of of fisherman’s calls and ship bells.
There is a peace to be found in those small places where land meets water; an energy that defies true description. It’s as though the convergence of many energies – the pulse of the earth, the whipping wind, tides that both pull and push – all conspire together to make me breath deeper, open my mind wider and clear cobwebs off my soul. I am the fire and my fellow elements rush in to greet me.
In 30 + years of exploring the glorious stretch of coastline from Chetco Cove to the Pacific Rim National Park Reserve, I have always seen something new and, usually, wonderful. I’ve seen the Mighty Pacific Ocean in calm, still, and variegated hues of blue and I’ve seen her churn and roll and take on many shades of gray and green, all curling together at once like an artist mixing paint on a global palette.
Some of my favorite places are the craggy nooks where the giant redwoods claim every inch of land right down to water’s edge and the tops of high, wide dunes that make me work to climb them, sand sucking me down with every step, but that then reward me with heart-catching, unhindered views of sweeping oceanic landscapes that would make a pirate king weep.
I also love the pebble littered coves filled with communities of small sea creatures and the moss covered woods leading to the end of little hidden rivers and creeks; water rushing to meet water. Let’s not forget the uncountable number of waterfalls great and small, crashing and dripping – a siren’s song sung in the key of H20.
As I continue to write this I cannot help but think of my upcoming trip to Coos Bay, just weeks away. I can almost smell the rich earthy scent of decaying autumnal forest, of fish and wet sand – a true bouquet to my yearning nostrils. I cannot wait to feel the salt on my skin and let the fog curl around me, like a lover welcoming me back.