Gifts of Acquaintance

                For my second weekend of summer it was a wee bit of a fail.  I had a few hikes planned and sadly all of them fell through but it was not a let-down.  During the week Staci, Katie and I headed over to the beach for a day trip.  We played Frisbee and soccer in the sand and bounced around in the waves.  A few times I underestimated my height and depth of the wave and found myself drenched more than I had planned.  Here I also finally received my Staci tackle hug when she pummelled me lovingly into the wet ocean sand; wet sand is deceivingly hard…  We spent the day beach-hopping around Pacific and Lincoln City, then headed back towards Mac.  On the way home we stopped at a cute little diner and had a wonderful dinner.  It was a great day back with missed friends.

                Last Sunday I decided to go on a run in a new but familiar area.  When I was little I remember every day driving past this farm and field full of dairy cows on my way to school, I would give my bovine friends a wave as we waited in the traffic to get on Stafford Road.  As I grew, this plot of land went through many uses.  Soon the dairy cows were gone and a beautiful open field of tall grass sat unused. This is the stage when my family and close family friends used the space to take our dogs and let them run and play in the open land.  I have memories of being in middle school walking around the field with my best friend Courtney with our dogs bounding though the tall grasses and our moms strolling behind chattering.  This solitude did not last, other dog owners began to invade our spot and soon the land was fenced off into a designated dog area putting boundaries on our memories.  Luckily, within the past few years the city turned the area into a city park.  A portion of the long grasses have been replaced by groomed soccer pitch grass and the dog area made even smaller.  The city did leave a large portion of the field untouched and added a nice path to meander the plot.  Here is where I went, surprisingly, for the first time since when it was my free space to explore unhindered with my dogs.  I ran on the side of the cement and found a new view of the area I drive by every day. 

The sun slowly set, highlighting the dried grasses as I jogged the path a few times.  There was another runner doing her nightly exercise.  On our first pass we gave a simple acknowledgement of the other’s existence with a pleasant smile and nod.  Awkwardly we passed each other again on our second round of the trail but this time we laughed a bit, gave a goofy wave, and quickly repeated the exiting of each other’s lives.  On my last round of the trail I noticed a pair of keys abandoned on the path. I picked them up to try and find the owners.  Sure enough they belonged to the other runner. I did a dramatic wave down to bring attention to me and away from her music and run to pass back the lost keys.  Here is the only time when we moved pass the knowledge of another existence to acquaintances.   We shook hands and exchanged names and even had a short conversation about how she always comes to this spot.  She thanked me a few more times and we parted ways not before pointing out we will most likely see each other again.  For the rest of my run I thought about the circumstance that brought about our meeting and how people almost avoid each other unless something is thrown in their path to force the introduction.  We both obviously had at least one thing in common, running, and yet we never even thought to talk to each other.  Are we so wound up in our own lives that it would be offensive to be approached by a friendly stranger to just talk?  It seems like we are so plugged into ourselves or our music or whatever we are doing to notice other people and I mean really notice and take interest in them.  This simple encounter has given me days of thought, where are our solitary life styles taking us?

We aren’t breathing for nothing.  

I just want to be a bug.

For the weekend my family with my friend Sarah in tow went to the beach for a bit of clamming.  We stayed at a hotel in Gearhart with the five of us, my uncle and his girlfriend and a family friend and his son.  In Boston style we packed enormous amounts of food with enough fruit to satisfy my addiction to earth’s candy.  With a stocked fridge we settled in nicely.

                We went out early Saturday to catch the low tide.  My uncle, an experienced clammer, sported the appropriate garb; tight wet suit material overalls.  We can simply say I was jealous.  We spent the morning getting wet and dirty digging in the sand and being bashed by waves.  There are a lot of things I am good at but clamming is not one of those, after many hours I only had 4 in my bag that I managed to smash when kneeling down to dig, FTW?  Sarah and I had tall rubber boots on to attempt to keep us dry but we had to endlessly perform high kicks to drain our boots, which was probably a sight. After being completely owned by the ocean and out dug by clams Sarah and I waded back to the car, ditched our boots and went for a wee walk.  We found some cool drift wood that we are going to make wine racks out of.  Soon the rest of the crew had their limit and we headed in for some breakfast and a day of sun on the beach.

                The next day Sarah and I accepted our failure and decided to sleep in and leave the clamming to the others.  Rested we got up packed our things and headed to Oswald State Park for an easy hike.  Here we hiked out to Falcon Cove.  Sarah was such a champ and sucked up being sick and had a great time.  Along the trail we came across large numbers of slugs and of course I loved all the songs courtesy of the birds. It had rained the night before so the trail was a bit wet giving some fun mud puddles to trounce through.  It was awesome to be back among Oregon nature, the thick trees and so much green!  I almost forgot how many different types of green Oregon has.  At the top of our hike we had a view of the mountainous coast line highlighted with the blaring sun.    All in all for a first weekend back it was not a let-down.  

                When I got home the sun was beginning to set so I decided to go on a run.  I went out to Rosemont Rd and awkwardly sat in the sidewalk and watched as the sky performed in pinks and orange against a back drop of distant mountains and hills.  I have been doing this almost every night to help transition back home; the little things like experiencing a sunset from a new but old place have helped me reconnect.   I miss New Zealand with a passion that I cannot put into words but Oregon is just as much my home and has plenty of beauty to explore.    

We aren't breathing for nothing.

A Summer Outside

I have set a goal for myself to do something in nature every weekend of this summer.  After traveling in New Zealand and experiencing so much of another country I discovered I have not seen enough of my own country let alone my beloved state of Oregon.  I want to move past the normality of only being an acquaintance with the opportunities offered by where you live.  I always set the idea that I will go out in nature but too often for my liking I let my overly scheduled and busy life trump the importance of first hand experience.  I no longer want to idol through the sunny glorious days trying to fit in all the 'requirements' of my day to day life. I now will go and do the things that I have always wanted to accomplish, be among the west coast and be able to relate to the places with no layer of protective glass or false images taken by someone else.
I will post at least one blog a week to keep on track with my goal.

Happy getting amongst!! 



We aren't breathing for nothing.