Mandrills

Hand in hand, for all those that think the big bang theory is the force, think about how humans walk hand in hand, ever seen our ancestors do that, they don’t but we do. The sky is the limit but only God could have thought of the comforts that cupped hands would bring in times of cold, intimacy, comfort and love, he reigns.

Walking down the Cape Lookout beach with Hal allows me to comprehend the myriad of reasons I have come to love this man. The warm of his hand in my constantly frigid ones allows more than heat to resonate between us. Discussing laureates, literature, careers, and why humans tend to hurt themselves when they are down and out, as he is reading yet another Irish novel filled with sorrow.

The wind hasn’t stopped howling on the Oregon coast it keeps the feet moving, jackets done up to the neck and toques on tight. An evening walk displayed hues of dark purple muscle shells gone jelly. We heard today that the starfish are all but gone due to a bacteria in the area. The photos of their being here are only visions for those of us that haven’t experienced them.

Last night at the Driftwood Inn in Yachats we listened to some blue grass music while being serenaded by many Canadian tunes. The musicians found out that Canadians were in the pub and played many of Hal’s favorites. Rich maple wood surrounded the bar that we were seated at with staff so overly friendly we thought they knew us. Bread pudding with rum, real rum glaze drizzled over it with whipping cream was given to us as a taster. It lathered our tongues, palates and spirits for the entire night for a storm was a brewing when we returned.

The tent breathed all night in and out pushing the gale winds hard into our heads then releasing us into the night sky just to repeat itself seconds later. It took some mind games to name all the vegetables I knew in alphabetical order to outdo the storm that was mere meters from our tent. The tide was in about midnight, our arrival back to camp, and the cacophony took some time to finally slip into a deep R.E.M. cycle and dream of new careers.

Yachats has proven to be an artist’s haven, what might have been a potters affair turned into the most magnificent artistry of oil, acrylics, unique jewelry, photography on steel, glass work, and wood sculptures. Just when you thought you’d seen it all, those creative mixture come up with new combinations.

Hal loved the brewery with a new found favorite, Tsunami Stout. With all the warning along the coast was it any wonder that drink, food, furniture and businesses were named after it.

Long walk on the beach and up through a botanical garden allowed us plenty of time to ponder gratitude which was the sermon this morning. We’d been listening to them daily with God pushing us to truly trust him without any doubts, yet humans have a need for assurance.

Hovered in our car writing our notes Hal jotting down poetry with classical music in the background, is there anywhere or anyone I’d rather be with, well you know the answer.