I drove out to Florence to meet Steve and Louis after work on Thursday
Depot Bay, and a statute of one of its full-time residents
The first day
Walking toward the sea lion cave
However, the cave is empty while its live inhabitants sun themselves on the cliffs outside on this balmy summer day.
Only the dead remain in residence below the earth.
Fins that evolved from feet, which had evolved from fins
Driving the coast
Out on the lava flows and tide pools
The more you stare, the more the sand, the sea, and the sky blur into the future
The next day...
...driving through the sea of sand, grass, and wind
A day spent crabbing in and around Florence
Ave imperator, morituri te salutant!
The ghost forest beach. Now the gleaming polished millennial roots are again reburied beneath the sand, far from the putrefying influence of oxygen.
This beach last October
March, after the violence of the winter storms
I still get a sense of the infinite All while walking these beaches
This world is not Conclusion.
A Species stands beyond—
Invisible as Music—
But positive as sound—
It beckons, and it baffles—
Our earth suspires sand and stone as much as the sky does wind and rain, or the ocean its mists and tidal surges
Local activism and brewing since 1988
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So, now I’m back home unpacking clothes and cleaning gear. I am certainly faced with a plethora of quixotic choices such as whether to buy a set of crab rings on this paycheck or the next. Of somewhat more importance is taking the first step of moving beyond a comfortable but disappointing new job here in PDX towards something novel and uncertain.
Oh World, thou choosest not the better part
It is not wisdom to be only wise,
And on the inward vision close the eyes,
Our knowledge is a torch of smoky pine
That lights the pathway but one step ahead
Across a void of mystery and dread.
Bid, then, the tender light of faith to shine
By which alone the mortal heart is led