I've been a recluse. It's work, eat, sleep, repeat. I don't mind, but it leaves little time for the click and clack of keystrokes on this failing mac. Sorry if in my absence, your days have grown slightly more grey; I'm sure they haven't.
Life on the coast still humbles me every day, whether it be at work... when I realize I know even less than I think, or whether it be by the landscape itself. It has a way of making you feel very small; not unimportant, in fact, it makes you feel nearly the opposite somehow.
I went to Hug Point today, it was low tide. That's the only way to see it, or so I'm told. It apparently got its name when early settlers of the west waited until low tide to sneak around the point, safe from the breaking waves of the Pacific. At high tide, the rock faces, and solitary boulders jutting out of the sand are buried by the sea. The beach disappears. So, you can picture how the adventures found it necessary to 'hug' the edge of the point, when even at low tide, the water threatens to bite at your ankles.
I like the story, but I like to think it was a bit more simple... and directly related to actual hugs. The irony was not lost on me, that I was at hug point today, Valentine's Day, without anyone to hug. It sort of made me laugh.
I didn't see anyone else there hugging... though there were plenty of candidates. It seems that maybe they ascribe to the historical naming story of this part of the Oregon Coast, not my simple-minded - but more Valentine related one.
I think next time I go back, I might ask someone to take a picture of me hugging the rock-face. It's rather silly, I know.... but, eh... don't care. I love to spread the hug love.
I guess that's about it for now... I'll try to be better at keeping up with this online journal of mine, for whoever out there is interested.
Until then....
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