A funny thing happened on the way to our walk at Gleneden Beach: the sun poking over the forest was so attractive that we were easily distracted and had to pull over at Boiler Bay to take in the scene. If you are astute, you’ll ask, “What’s so funny about that? Aren’t you two easily distracted by just about anything in nature?” Should that be what first comes to your mind, you likely know us well. Now, if you are truly aware, you might have noticed that the sun is already over the horizon. Well, on this Friday morning, it just might have been a wee bit difficult to get moving.

As I already noted, we were going to Gleneden Beach, just as we did a couple of days ago. The idea was to try minimizing the inclination to photograph everything all over again.

Blah, blah, blah surf, blah blah. I’m trying to keep this short so I can move on to other tasks, such as working on my novel because, after an extended morning walk from we didn’t return to our car until 7:45, making a hot breakfast, starting laundry, and then putting a pot of peruano beans on to simmer over the day, it was already kind of late when I turned to prepping these meager six photos which are standing in to represent our morning. Sometimes, laziness fits the bill, though getting 3 miles of walking in before everything else tends to make the rest that much better.

The other day, we looked in this direction but opted to walk south. Today, the path along the shore took us north, and to our surprise, we connected with the southern end of the Salishan Beach Trail we had discovered on Tuesday. If you read that post, you’d know of the two skull pieces, one disconnected from the seal’s body it came from. Now, three days later, the carcass has moved farther south down the beach, and little of the seal remains. We persist, though, so that’s good.

The sun is moving; it is rising to warm this cold morning. Caroline and I had been talking about the weather and the season, and the number of people we expected to see out on the coast hasn’t materialized. Maybe they’ll show up this weekend? Something has to justify the high cost of lodging up here at this time of year, but then again, the cool weather might be keeping visitors away. So, I just checked on the highs and lows regarding the temperatures, and at least here in Depoe Bay, August is the hottest month, with an average high of 68 degrees (20 Celsius) or a solid 40 degrees (22 Celsius) cooler than Phoenix, Arizona. It probably doesn’t help that the water temperature is only 51 degrees (11 Celsius) today compared to 71 degrees (22 Celsius) in Hawaii.

Outside of the sea is not the place for a starfish, no matter how strong it flexes. Dude was a pretty buff specimen, but not so tough to resist being chucked right back into the drink from which it escaped. That was about the extent of our morning, and now, between this photo and the next, a normal routine day will take place until Caroline finishes with happy hour later this afternoon, and we again head into a coastal adventure.

For the fifth day in a row, Caroline’s desk/work setup has remained on the enclosed deck/sunroom, where we had unpacked her things on Monday after we arrived. Though her day begins with a chilly start in the low 50s (11 Celsius), she’s chosen to muscle through it as the birds’ songs are nearer. The squirrel in the tree to her left gets her attention, she watched a deer walking down the driveway earlier, and as the sun comes up over the trees to warm her right cheek, the room can become a toasty 80 degrees (26 Celsius) until midday when the trees behind her cast shadows and the room cools – we open the sliding door for more airflow. As for me, it suits my situation well to sit inside trying to avoid even more distractions from blogging, working on the photos, making three fresh meals a day, and trying to finagle my way into my novel. With all of those things and the work week behind us, it is time to start the weekend, which we thought would start here near Cascade Head on the right. Instead, we found ourselves at the Salmon River in Otis at the end of the road and not the trailhead that would have taken us to the overlook up high. Time and cloud cover suggested the three hours required for the hike would have us returning to the car at 10:00 p.m., so we’re saving it for another day.

Now wishy-washy about what to do next, we made a brief stop at the D River State Recreation Site in Lincoln City, home of the world’s shortest river, and realized that people were streaming in for the weekend, as evidenced by the number of people on the beach. I get that you might not see it due to me intentionally taking this photo as a silhouette, but we are on a wall overlooking the beach and well over the heads of the majority of people out there. We’re not interested in putting ourselves out there among the throngs. Okay, it’s not like this was Huntington Beach in Southern California kind of busy, but it was busy enough for us that we moved on.

You know those signs on bridges that tell drivers not to stop on them? Well, this bridge doesn’t have those signs, and I felt there was just enough room on the right to throw on the hazard lights and jump out of the car to try and grab a photo of the Siletz River flowing into the Millport Slough.

Our final walk of the day was out to Fishing Rock.

I’d like to have been able to fully appreciate the romantic moment shared by a young couple if only it weren’t while they stood on top of what looked like a wildly dangerous place to be experiencing the last minutes of the day and possibly the last minutes of their lives. Pragmatism and a healthy sense of avoiding the most precarious of risks seem like solid thinking on our part; then again, we also feel rather wimpy due to the anxiety and burst of fear in witnessing such acts of bravery/stupidity. All the same, it does put smiles on our faces when we see people in love.