You’re going to have to forgive my inarticulateness for this post, because, holy crap y’all, we finally made it to Ecola State Park.
Have you been there? Have you seen this place?
We had driven by many, many times, but never actually went to check it out. Dave hadn’t been to Ecola State Park since he was a kid. We had a sunny day a couple weeks ago and hopped in the car.
We got lunch in Cannon Beach and then headed for the park. We drove through a goddamned enchanting forest. I’m telling you, it was so gorgeous, it was unearthly. Goddamned enchanting. You can’t make this up. The forest broke open into a meadow overlooking the ocean and it took my breath away. I couldn’t get out of the car fast enough.
Holy fricken crap. I kept saying that to myself over and over. “Holy fricken crap.”
It was gorgeous everywhere you put your eyes. The waves rolled in and collapsed in a froth against the black rocks. Dave remembered being able to take a path down to a little cove, but the path had washed away. We walked along a thin sliver of land still jutting out into the ocean.
The Oregon coast does not quit, yo.
I’m as jaded and cynical as anyone else. And I fret over the state of the world, and what our future holds. But visiting this place was nature’s way of slapping me in the face. It shook me and said, “What? What the hell is wrong with you? You think you’ve got issues? You think the world is falling apart? IT IS. I am nibbling at it bit by bit, with every wave that crashes against the continent. You shut the hell up and goddamned appreciate.”
At least, that’s the way I think of nature speaking to me.
The rainy season has started, and we visited just after a couple days of soaking rain. So we didn’t hike the trail to Indian Beach. We drove over, through the enchanting forest.
Since it was mid week in November, we had the whole place to ourselves. Evidently, the $5 fee disuades some folks from visiting in favor of other lovely free beaches on the coast. But honestly, it would be worth it to pay $20 or more to get into this park.
It felt like I had never taken a real breath in my life, until then.
But I have felt that way a great number of times in our travels. For that, I feel very, very lucky.
It’s also pretty underfoot. In the details.
I’m not a photographer. I just point my camera at pretty places and shoot. The world does the work for us. We just show up when we can.
What trouble do you have that cannot be solved?
Perhaps you need a walk on the beach.