Like clockwork. Every year at the very same time since I was 10 years old I've longed for the Oregon beaches. Cold and breezy, wet and sand blasted. I start getting very quiet and melancholy around the 2nd or 3rd week of February. I find myself dazing. I'll literally look out a window at a simple everyday object like the birdhouse outside one of our windows and see the sand blowing. I know it's strange, but it's seriously true. I can smell the ocean water and feel my skin prickle from the cold wet breeze. I don't know why I do this, in fact it makes me a little depressed, but in a good way if there is such a way. It's like something is telling me to get back fast because it's going to disappear. I don't know what I would do without this day dream, because it's so common and a part of my life. I am glad that I get to go to Oregon as often as I do, but lately it's not enough. I think about it literally everyday day, some days more than others. It's my inner goonie calling me to adventure. Or maybe the water is tugging at Sam to and I'm feeling it stronger vicariously through him. There is a specific beach, not one I have photographed here, unfortunately I haven't been back to this specific beach since I was 10 so I don't have a personal photograph yet. Maybe that is why I'm being called so strongly. The beach is in Bandon it's called Grave Rock, morbid as it sounds. There are sea caves scattered everywhere. I remember when I was 10 I would run in and out of those caves looking for driftwood treasure and crabs. I remember my toes getting so cold and my hands and nose being beet red, no matter how cold I got I couldn't bring myself to leave the sand. When the time did come to leave the coast and the magical things I experienced, I couldn't help but feel like I was losing something really special.
Like clockwork. Every year at the very same time since I was 10 years old I've longed for the Oregon beaches. Cold and breezy, wet and sand blasted. I start getting very quiet and melancholy around the 2nd or 3rd week of February. I find myself dazing. I'll literally look out a window at a simple everyday object like the birdhouse outside one of our windows and see the sand blowing. I know it's strange, but it's seriously true. I can smell the ocean water and feel my skin prickle from the cold wet breeze. I don't know why I do this, in fact it makes me a little depressed, but in a good way if there is such a way. It's like something is telling me to get back fast because it's going to disappear. I don't know what I would do without this day dream, because it's so common and a part of my life. I am glad that I get to go to Oregon as often as I do, but lately it's not enough. I think about it literally everyday day, some days more than others. It's my inner goonie calling me to adventure. Or maybe the water is tugging at Sam to and I'm feeling it stronger vicariously through him. There is a specific beach, not one I have photographed here, unfortunately I haven't been back to this specific beach since I was 10 so I don't have a personal photograph yet. Maybe that is why I'm being called so strongly. The beach is in Bandon it's called Grave Rock, morbid as it sounds. There are sea caves scattered everywhere. I remember when I was 10 I would run in and out of those caves looking for driftwood treasure and crabs. I remember my toes getting so cold and my hands and nose being beet red, no matter how cold I got I couldn't bring myself to leave the sand. When the time did come to leave the coast and the magical things I experienced, I couldn't help but feel like I was losing something really special.
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