Spring on the Oregon Coast

April 13, 2023

I spent the week on the Oregon Coast. It’s been years since I’ve written a blog post, but being out here has pushed me to start writing again. I’m also taking a social media break—at least trying to. I’m one of the people who love to be “in the know,” and I find social media more addictive than it seems like it should be. At least my other vices bring some amount of pleasure and not just anxiety and distraction. Social media is almost a type of anti-pleasure perhaps. Lately I’ve been struggling to get my focus—my attention—back; to be more present, and in my body, as I move through the world. Sometimes I feel like I’ve forgotten what that even means.

Yet, here I am, spending time in nature, enjoying her heartbreaking beauty; the depth and variance of green in early spring; the haunting call of a Red-Winged Black Bird; the movement and shapes of clouds that are only tangible in brief moments of perception.

Last night I watched as the sun set below a dark bank of clouds on the horizon. I knew that the colors would be subtle and muted, and I wondered how that same setting sun would shine differently as the earth spins, and the clouds part, and other people watch as red light fills the sky, or deep purples turn the clouds into cotton candy. I have seen that sunset too, but last night it was a simple dark gray.

Spring has been elusive this year. Although there are signs of new growth everywhere. Yesterday it snowed on the beach—briefly—but snow all the same. Last year this week, we planted our tomatoes in the community garden. This year, this week there is a frost warning for the region. I don’t think we will get our tomatoes in the ground until May.