We drove down to the misty green Oregon coast forest and spent some time being forest-people for a while.
Picture here the pictures I couldn’t capture, because how can you? The cozy feeling of a campfire as the surrounding forest gets quieter and darker. The patter of rain on the tent as we slept. The insistent caw of the wise resident crows. The babble of the creek running unseen through the dense brush. The tiny birdsongs at night when twilight crept in. How everything smells a little bit of woodsmoke, of dirt, of rain, of the nearby ocean’s salt.
Here is one camp breakfast, triumphantly produced despite a drippy morning and the langorous feeling that maybe staying in our sleeping bags forever might not be such a bad fate:
It was so green there, and with the misty weather and our lack of beach gear, we only really got to ogle the waves from the cliffs at Seal Rock:
And instead we went for a leisurely exploration of the Oregon Coast Aquarium, since this particular spot on the coast is a bit farther than a usual weekend trip might take us. We spent some time with the awesome Oddwater Exhibits, and all their amazing, shy, colorful creatures.
Anyway now we are back, with the predictable mountain of laundry, box full of camping supplies not quite yet unpacked, and I’ve had the feeling all week that we didn’t quite leave. It seems like our camp site is still exactly where it was last Saturday, quiet and waiting for us. I want to go back, but maybe we’re still there. Or a piece of us might be. I love visiting the forest. I love how it visits me in return.