Southern Coast - Lush hints only of the sights missing the growth

Down to Eugene for the day in rain, we dodged puddles sprinting from one shop to another in cover. We ventured up to the University, my sister’s old stomping ground, and then onto some needed expensive shopping for a week of camping.

There are few words to describe when vegetation grows on every inch of building, ground, and earth. Our car headed coastal bound and immediately what should have been farm land was transformed into plush carpets of grass, wheat, and hay encased in mature trees with moss hanging on every limb. No bark was discernable as we stopped several times to photograph this phenomenon. Dr. Seuss must have visited here prior to writing about his Trufula trees.

Within an hour our feet were in sand dunes. Pine needles gave way to sand as our feet contoured this way and that to move up and down the dunes for hours to reach the ocean. Through pools of water that sat 2 ft. deep our feet were inevitably going to be wet, so we plunged in and were rewarded with a 12 mile beach to ourselves. The sun had come out long enough to doff the umbrellas and the wet sand made it easier to move beside the torrent of crashing waves.

That night nestled in our tent we read books, listened to prayer and thanked God for this magnificent island we are on.

Morning came with Chinese children singing “All about the Bass” quarter a mile away yet their lilting voices carried through the empty campground. Fried eggs and cheese for breakfast and then off to the Hecate Lighthouse, situated far up on a cliff. We climbed behind it for an hour prior to descending to see the cut glass dome that shone out as a safety beacon for sailors. The rain gods had descended but there was far too much beach to see, so off to Hobbit Park up the road about 1 mile and down to the beach on a route lined by thick green leaves the size of your palm covered every living breathing thing.

Children were making castles in the sand as the rain hailed down only to stop about a mile down the beach for us. Sun takes on a different meaning here, since the warmth it brings is so intense it truly has a magical effect whenever it reaches the recesses of your body, warming it up, flushing out our pruned hands and toes.

Heading back home we noted a pull out and could hear a distinct air horn sound. Looking over the stone hedge tens upon tens of black seals hovered on the shore their close knit family never venturing without kin to the ocean waters. Green canopies of trees varying color with vibrant yellow flowers framed the perfect photos of the distant light house and bay.

Florence is a small town and meandering the old district allows history to rekindle harder times for men working the forest and ocean. A quick stop in the library to write to you and off to our tent to begin cooking a Mexican fiesta for dinner. Olah!

Florence is a small town and meandering the old district allows history to rekindle harder times for men working the forest and ocean. A quick stop in the library to write to you and off to our tent to begin cooking a Mexican fiesta for dinner. Olah!