We went to beautiful Arcadia Beach on Saturday.  We used to do the occasional walk there back in the day, but it was never a great surf spot for my husband and we'd almost always go to Ecola instead.  Ecola is so dear to our hearts, but it has become so crowded in the six years we were away.  There were always people, but we never had to wait in line just to get into the park, with no parking guaranteed.  This has us looking for less populated beaches, and Arcadia is really so perfect, but we're hoping to find more.  Do you local folks know of any you are willing to share?

There were hundreds of beautiful blue jellyfish called Velella velella - dying or dead, sadly - that had washed up on the beach.  I had never seen these before and they were stunning.  Read more about them here.  Interesting little creatures.  

While after the dark winter I am ready for a little warmth and lingering sunny evenings barefoot in the garden, one can't deny that this piece of the Northwest we are so lucky to call home is definitely most beautiful under moody skies with mist in the trees and glistening green everywhere you look.  I've been feeling a little off kilter for a while now, with travels keeping my little family apart, sickness in the house, and simply feeling blah.  But there's something about the Oregon coast that seems to center all of us and bring us right back to a place of peace.   The green, the gray, the fog, the sounds.  The togetherness.  It's the perfect tonic. 



Random sharing of a more personal nature than usual:  Some days I feel a vague sadness and I don't know why.  This has happened as long as I can remember.  It is not debilitating, it is not overwhelming, and it is only occasionally there.  When I was little, it felt like an uncertainty of the unknown or anticipation of what the future holds, not for me specifically, but for the world in general.  Perhaps now it's over-internalization of what I hear and see too much of.  {How, in this world so "advanced" in some ways from even a few decades ago, have we become so uncivilized and uncaring?}  Perhaps it's over-sensitivity, absorbing what I feel from others out there.  Perhaps it's an inborn saudade in my Portuguese blood.  Perhaps it is simply something we all feel to some degree that affects some of us much more than others.  I don't know.  But now, mostly, it feels like melancholic reverberations from another lifetime that I can't quite remember, echo waves coming through a doorway of the past that bounce off of me intermittently, eternally.    

{Pretty pictures for balance.  A return to regular positive programming in the next post.}
by mlekoshi