Extraordinary Friendship

You know how you mean to go somewhere or do something and you kinda never get around to it? And then one day, boom, you just pull off to the side of the road and visit the park you've been driving by for 3 years.  And, just maybe, something extraordinary happens.

I was returning from Astoria. I originally heard about this park from a Native woman who considered it to be a sacred place.  On the  Reuben Snake Memorial Facebook Page I learned this: "Originally targeted for condominium development, a 20-acre site including Neawanna Point north of Seaside was donated to the North Coast Land Conservancy because of its unique historical and cultural value. In exchange for preserving the site, the developer created a memorial to Ruben Snake, a Winnebago tribe member who fought for the Religious Freedom Restoration Act of 1993. The memorial now overlooks Neawanna Point."  

I don't know if this park has an official name. It's just north of Java Reef Coffee on Hwy 101. There is a parking area and a historical marker referencing Lewis & Clark, salt, salmon and Native Americans. In the same breath it talks about 'Extraordinary Friendship' and the fact that we ravaged the population with the disease we introduced  . . . Hmm. That doesn't seem friendly at all.  

Anyway, I saw the park and instantly pulled over. . . a totally impulsive moment. I got out of my car and walked the hundred yards toward a path leading into one of the beautiful, coastal, rain-forest-y woods I love almost as much as I love the beach. As I rounded a corner and came upon the Reuben Snake monument I was startled to find a dog tied to a fence. She growled and barked and I gave her a wide berth. I wondered why she might be there. Were her owners hiking in the woods? Odd. 20 acres doesn't seem to be such a large area that you wouldn't take your dog with you.  I became more curious when I didn't run into any other people on the short hike. Coming out of the woods I approached the dog who still growled - but with considerably less conviction. She was shaking and nervous and there was something like pleading in her eyes.  I sat near her and spoke softly; watched her step forward, then back, then forward again, this time with her head lowered. I sat there and watched her hesitate, think about it and deliberately choose trust.  I won't soon forget that. I slowly moved closer and let her smell my hand. In no time she was in my lap, nuzzling me, and licking my face. You can probably see where this story is going.

I left a note on the fence post: "I'm sorry if I accidentally rescued your dog. She seemed alone." - along with my phone number. For today her name is Ruby. She is smart, loving, house-broken, sits on command and fetches like a fiend. She and Reggie are already old pals.  I reluctantly left messages with Clatsop County and Seaside animal control.  I hope none of them call back. 

Addendum 4/26/14: 8 hours later no one had called about their missing dog. I went back to the park and retrieved my note. If animal control calls on Monday I'll tell them her people claimed her and there's a happy ending. It's the truth.

Addendum 6/10/14: Ok, so I actually worried that someone with a legitimate story might want their dog back so I did cooperate with Seaside Animal Control. The officer wanted me to have Ruby as much as I did, but we did our due diligence. Ruby was photographed and documented and scanned negative for a chip. Animal control was heading out on vacation for a week and it was going to be yet another week before I got back to Seaside. That was mid-May. She never called back and neither did I. Ruby is now licensed, micro-chipped and registered to me. 

And they all lived happily ever after. The end.

Scrambled Clam Hash With a Side of Rain

Short on words today; long on love for this place.

"Price"less!

This morning I was in my happy place at my happy place (that would be Seaside Coffee House) when the nicest text came through. Hood River friends, Brian and Audrey Price and their 5 kids, were on their way home from Manzanita and wanted to meet in Seaside. We've talked about this a number of times and never quite connected - but today was the day! I hurried home, made my bed, threw dishes in the dishwasher and had enough time to dash to the local market and get 2 bags of oyster crackers. Kids + Seagulls + Oyster Crackers = Good Fun! (I hoped!)

You all know how much I love this place. And I know that kids (and dogs) all love to run and play at the beach. So I knew it would be fun, but I wan't sure . . . would they think the Boneyard was weird? (No) Would the seagulls scare them? (No) Would my dog hump their legs the entire time? (Yeah. So sorry about that.) 

It was a super fun visit with the unexpected bonus of seeing my beloved Boneyard through the eyes of 5 enthusiastic, energetic, curious little humans. Every rock, piece of bone and shell was a prize discovery. The seagulls and even the crows (my bad beach boys) behaved themselves and  feasted gratefully on oodles of oyster crackers. Reggie chased the birds and the kids relentlessly.  Kids stumbled and fell over rocks and got back up without a peep, in a hurry to get to the next thing.  Excellent questions were asked; imaginations fired full blast; no one thought the bones were gross and the sun even peeked out here and there!  When we got back to the house we compared individual bones to an intact bird skeleton; made spiralizer zucchini noodles and discussed horror movies while exploring the creepy basement. It was a good day.

Audrey and Brian, you guys rock. You are ballet dancers - making the grueling, exhausting work of parenthood look flawlessly effortless. Now that my 'young' parenthood days are behind me, I marvel at how we do it - but we do. And before you know it, your precious babies will be driving themselves to college in pick-up trucks and you'll wonder how you got there. And then you'll smile and have a glass of wine mid-afternoon - because you can!  I bow before you and thank you for sharing your beautiful family with me today. Much love to you all. See ya back in The Hood. And now I'm going to have a glass of wine!

A Room Without a Roof

Spring may technically be four days away but . . .

    I'm here to tell you . . .

It's here!

Baby green shoots are rising out of the dead dune grass; 

the beach pea is unfolding its little green palms;

 the slugs 

 (and Kim Lindemeyer) are dancing to THIS. 

 (Clap, Clap, Clap-Clap Clap)
  Don't even start in with the 'slugs can't clap' stuff.
I saw them.

Some images and words from the last few days . . . 

happy spring to you all!

Irrelevant

Oh, God dammit.
I forgot to label the bag.

Was that Colombian or Guatemalan?

I always think I'll remember.
I never do.

I fumble the #4 Melita filter in the pre-dawn light

But, mostly, my hands know what to do.

I gather my rain gear and the cup fills in drips.

Reggie prances. He knows this ritual.

Coffee in hand and a deliriously happy dog . . .

Can this be anything but good?

The bones of it are always the same:

Wake up

Brush teeth (maybe)

Last night's clothes

Coffee
Out the door.

That part doesn't change.

What comes next, however, is never the same.

I never know what will be out there.

Yesterday was an "iron" day . . .

An iron spike covered in those tube-worm things -

Medusa!

A twisted, crusted iron crucifix.
(benedictio in nomine Matris Oceanus)

I meander and sip.

My coffee cup gathers residue of sand and dog treats, shells, bones and kelp.

When my hands are too full I set my cup on an accommodating rock -

To better continue the hunt.

When I return the coffee is cold,

Diluted with rain

And kissed with salt.

It's the most perfect cup of coffee ever.

And the Colombian/Guatemalan debate becomes irrelevant. 

Goddesses at the Beach

I've spent some time getting to know Athena, Artemis, Diana and Elizabeth the 1st. They are powerful Goddesses (ok, Elizabeth was technically mortal, but only just barely), who, while invoking sometimes raging independence, also had their soothing and healing moments. They were usually fair and always unapologetic.
Artemis, in particular, is 'fiercely individualistic and and independent; she remains apart from relationship to men.' (Goddess Knowledge Cards Susan Eleanor Boulet).
Elizabeth is quoted as saying, "Better beggar woman and single than Queen and married."
and
"I am called the Virgin Queen.
Unmarried,
I have no master.
Childless,
I am mother to my people.
God give me strength to bear this mighty freedom."
Single AND queen seems to have been both a perfect compromise and an overwhelming burden. I am grateful for my simple life.
Artemis, Diana,  Athena and the Red Stag and Elizabeth the 1st - beautiful imagery online.
Today a mix of all four showed themselves via driftwood and bird bones at the beach.

And then tonight I heard them all in K.D. Lang's Hallelujah.
Watch it. All the way to the end. What beauty. What grace.
And as long as we're speaking of perfection . . .
fresh fried razor clams
(the recipe on the left; adapted for, like, 4 clams if you're a solo goddess; you will want leftovers for scrambled clam hash in the morning. I promise.)
with a squeeze of lemon.
The Ladies all would have approved.
Hallelujah..

About Time

I think about perspective at the ocean . . . 

feeling small in the face of such expansiveness. 

Today I got a wave of  that perspective across the coffee shop counter. . .

Today I spoke to a man

with two small children.

His wife is battling cancer.

He told me

the things he once thought were important

don't matter much anymore.

"It's the little things,' 

he said, as I handed him his coffee,

"the things right in front of you,

that matter the most."

Much love and honor to you both, T & M.

Naked Branches

It's been a while . . .

Hmmm. I was going to say it's been a while since I wrote but I was instantly hijacked by those words.

2001.  Staind

" . . . it's been awhile

Since I've seen the way the candles light your face

And it's been awhile but I can still remember just the way you taste . . ."

That was a powerful year. Not my most graceful. But powerful. And now it's 2014. 

Belated Happy New Year.

Naked Branches 

The question is raised sooner rather than later.

Being human,

we seem driven to know

sooner rather than later -

"What is it you want?"

But the question is all wrong,
isn't it?

"Am I what you want?" 

is what's really being asked.

The question reduces me to tears

because to name it is to shake the leaves off . . .

and expose it . . .

and naked is scary.

But here it is

in spite of the fears. . .

in spite of the tears . . .

in the broadest brush strokes . . .

I want to love without reservation

and I want to be loved
in return
without reservation.

But there -

to want love in return concedes a condition and
renders reservation,

doesn't it?

Semantics or truth?

I don't know and I'm too tired to care.

What this flawed human wants

in my flawed human way

is to stand before you

naked branches and all

and be seen and loved and held

and to know there is a place 

with you

where I can exhale and relax and trust that

most likely

tomorrow you will still feel the same way.

And

 that you will stand before me

naked branches and all

and allow yourself to be seen and loved and held
and to know there is a place
with me
where you can exhale and relax and trust that

most likely

tomorrow I will still feel the same way.

That's all, really.