Tag Archives: Paradise

#amwriting: finding paradise

Amaranthus and Savvy at the needles by haystack rock cannon beach 2012My annual visit to the sunless Oregon Coast is upon us. For the next week I’ll be reading and gazing out the window at the ghostly rocks of Tillamook Head rising from the mist. Terrible Tilly, the most infamous lighthouse on the West Coast rises a mile out to sea, but is shrouded in fog and mist–I can’t see her today.  It is supposed to rain most of the week here–and that is what we come to this place for.

The many moods of the stormy waters, the seabirds–this place inspires me and clears my head like no other place.

I will be writing whenever the muse seizes me. Our condo is one we often stay at, and is perfect for us with a fully outfitted kitchen. I will cook many meals for my family, as being vegan, I can’t really eat in too many restaurants, although there are a few beginning to offer vegan options here.

As I write this at 06:15 a.m., the rain-slick streets are nearly empty, making this my town, my personal paradise. Despite the bad weather, people will soon be out, and it won’t be mine any more, but the hum and bustle of the streets brings a different vibe of excitement.

Walking along the beach in this sort of weather, one finds so many more things. The wave deposit sand dollars and the seabirds dine on them, leaving behind the hollowed shell for me.

The author goes kite flying in the fog, Cannon Beach, Haystack Rock , August 2013I may not have the chance to fly my kite until later in the week, but then again, some years I find myself kite-flying in the fog. Rather like my normal life, I suppose–with so many stories whirling in my head I’m always in a fog, so to speak.

Sun or no, this is my writing and reading paradise. I have the opportunity to do both here, in undisputed peace. Today, my husband and I will stroll along the beach, or visit the small shops, or just chill on the deck, observing the sea in all her many moods.

This is my piece of Heaven. Have you found yours?


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Thursday, thy name is dysfunction

landscaping 2010I have a construction site not far down the alley from my back yard, where the evergreen trees in this picture are, actually. Sadly, the trees are no more–an apartment complex is going up, with stores on the ground floor. This is good use of the land, and I am all for high-density planning in cities and towns, but the dulcet sounds of machinery and metal against rock and hard-pan in this glacial valley are not conducive to writing, unless I happen to be writing a war.  In this photo you can see the boulders that the landscaping lads pried out of our yard when they put in the sprinkler system three years ago.

Hopefully the contractors up the way will be done digging through the boulders left behind by the last ice age to make the foundations of that behemoth of a building soon. Hammers and air guns I can take, but the constant banging and pounding of heavy machinery chipping away at the glacial till is distracting. Once I get the music playing it helps.

800px-MIMA_MOUNDSI live in a strange part of the world geologically, speaking. We have been shaped by fire, ice and earthquakes.  Just down the road from my house are the Mima Mounds, low, flattened, circular to oval, dome-like, natural mounds that are composed of loose, unstratified, often gravelly sediment. These mounds range in diameter from 3 to more than 50 m; in height 30 cm to greater than 2 m; and in density from several to greater than 50 mounds per hectare, at times forming conspicuous natural patterns. Many people thought they were Native burial mounds, but they are just strange rock and gravel formations.

We also have Ramtha just down the road, but that is a whole different sort of natural phenomenon. Apparently we have ley-lines running beneath our soil out here in rural Thurston County. Who knew! (Spiritual tourism is big business out here. Bring your money!)

120621_rainier_lenticular courtesy KOMO news Tim ThompsonAnyway, this whole area is in the shadow of the biggest thing on the west coast–Mount Rainier.

That’s a pretty awesome sight, looming at the end of my street, just saying.

So my neighborhood was formed by mountains of ice and rivers of fire–and thanks to the machinery bashing their way through the rock here, I’m still not getting any writing done.

I wonder what’s on YouTube?

OOHH!!! Eric Whitacre’s Fly to Paradise!  (I’m sure they mean the Paradise on Mt. Rainier so it’s in keeping with my theme today!)


Filed under Adventure, Fantasy, Literature, Uncategorized, writer, writing