Tag Archives: Tillamook Head

#FineArtFriday: Two Photographs, Two Years Apart

As I mentioned in my last post, The Summer Retreat, I am enjoying the last days of summer in Cannon Beach, Oregon. We will go back north to our home tomorrow. This has been a strange year, with unusual heat and a thick, smoky haze that marred the first three days.

This is the view of Tillamook Head as seen from Ecola Creek on August 13, 2016. That was a year of fabulous sunsets, deep blue skies and perfect kite flying winds.

This following image is the shot I took of  sunset three days ago on the same beach, with a more southern angle–the sea stacks are to the right, just out of the frame. At the time the photo was taken, the sun was still an hour above the horizon, and it should have been full daylight instead of twilight.

The brown haze is so thick, it looks as as if the image is grainy and overexposed, but as you can see by the red sun, it is just smoke obscuring the view of the ocean, hiding the rocks, and nearly hiding the sun. That was a difficult day for those of us with asthma, as the sun was obscured for most of the day, despite the intense humidity and 90 degree heat. The surf looks unreal, as if it were a badly composed painting.

Today the brown haze cleared and the temperatures dropped to the normal high 60’s to mid 70’s–which is perfectly comfortable. Not breathing the smoke from the West Coast Wildfires is a relief, although I suspect we will return to that misery once we return to our own inland valley.

Nevertheless, it will be good to be home. We love this place and this beach and return every year. And every sojourn here is  so different, so unique, always with something new to enjoy. Even when, as it was this year, it is a strange, nearly post apocalyptic year.

Credits and Attributions:

Images and text © 2018 Connie J. Jasperson, All Rights Reserved

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Filed under #FineArtFriday, writing

#flashfictionfriday: Beyond Ecola’s Door

Heaven lies beyond the hills, beside the Tillamook Head.

At Ecola’s door, where the river finds the sea,

Where east meets west and seabirds nest, my feet are often led.


Gray waves pound the stony cliffs, stout and standing tall

Rock is strong and water soft,  yet crumbling ‘neath the waves.

Winter’s wrath of wind and surge slowly grinds them small.


And out to sea a lighthouse stands beyond the Tillamook Head

No keepers shelter ‘neath her lamp, Tilly stands alone,

Guarded by the white-winged birds, and ashes of the dead.


Black rock rises from the waves, beyond Ecola’s door

I long to be at river’s edge, where Ecola meets the sea

And soon and soon, I’ll walk the sand, along the wild shore.

horses on the beach, Cannon Beach, Oregon by C.J. Jasperson 8-13-2014

Beyond Ecola’s Door, © Connie J. Jasperson 2016


Filed under #FlashFictionFriday, Politics, Uncategorized