Fort Stevens State Park near Astoria, Oregon
Dear Sundays,
There was virtually no cell service where I was this weekend, which was wonderful. I spent it at Fort Stevens near Astoria and carved out one last camping for the year. My campmates were busy running a 10K this morning while Maud, the wonder dog, and I sat next to a warm campfire. I took the rare opportunity to lean into the moment and not worry about what I generally worry about on Sundays - and Mondays, and Tuesdays …
Maud the Wonder Dog
I was raised on the Oregon coast, but it's been so long since I slept beside the ocean. Last night, as dusk grew into night, I could feel the crisp, coastal air permeate my bones. It's perpetually cool and damp (even in the 70s) and tiny beads of water cover every surface when the temperature drops. I am reminded of my childhood here; no matter how many layers I put on, I could never lose that last bit of chill.
Last night I slept so soundly. The night before was fraught, with lots of tossing and turning about the conversations from the day. I was catching up with two friends on Friday, and both conversations were filled with a bit of emotion and melancholy. I often carry that feeling forward into the night. But I always sleep so well when I'm outside in the cold. It's like a magic trick I can never recreate at home, even with the softest sheets, softest down pillows, and coziest blankets. This morning, I felt so clear and hopeful about so many things. It feels like the ship is in the process of righting itself.
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