We just returned from a short but sweet trip to the Oregon Coast -- Manzanita, to be specific. We decided about a week ago that the summer wouldn't be complete without a couple of nights at the coast, and we were able to find a room at a modest but clean (e.g. no bed bugs) motel directly across from the beach right in the heart of the little town. Perfect. The weather forecast said "AM clouds/PM sun" with a high of 67 for the three days we were there, but the sun shone brightly and warmly from sunrise to sunset the whole time. We even went swimming. Swimming! Not in the ocean, mind you -- we're not crazy. The motel has a small heated outdoor pool that looks directly out to the ocean. Between the pool and the endless running on the beach and the "treasures" found in the sand and the ice-cream cones, my kids were in heaven.
I realize that for many people, a "beach" isn't a "beach" unless the air is hot, the water is warm, and the primary reason to go is to actually swim in the ocean. I get it. I've been to plenty of warm beaches, tropical or otherwise, and I find turquoise water, palm trees, and hot sand just as gorgeous and seductive as anyone. But they don't restore my soul like the Oregon Coast does. They don't leave me with a sense of wonder and awe at the utter magnitude of God's creation. They don't fill my lungs with crisp, salty air and cleanse each cell in my body one breath at a time. And, particularly poignant, they don't carry a lifetime's worth of family memories that I get to relive every time I visit. Alas. I'll forgo the care-free, pleasing, bikini-clad blonde-bombshell of a beach in favor of my moody, mysterious, bespeckled brunette bookworm of a beach anyday.
Here are some 2012 highlights:
Ice-cream before dinner? Sure!
I love this shot because it shows the grandeur of the Oregon Coast.
Inspecting a crab's claw. The beach is full of surprises and treasures.
At Camp 18 about 30 minutes away from the coast. I have been eating here for as long as I can remember, and absolutely nothing has changed. I think I would literally cry if it ever closed down.
Riding on a surrey in Seaside on our way out of town. Kurt and I peddled that thing for 45 minutes and earned every bite of our lunch at Camp 18!