view from our back porch, photo taken by Clay MorrissettI've been on vacation- still am, actually- but last week I was truly on vacation from my computer, my cell phone, my washing machine, and most other obligations outside of hanging out with my family at the beach in South Carolina. It was wonderful. If I can figure out how to connect my camera to my mom's computer I'll post some pictures; otherwise, the pictures will have to wait until we are back in Portland.
While we were in Folly Beach, SC I found myself thinking a lot about time- its passing, its space in the present, and its quickly coming as the future becomes the present. As a novel whose first line gains more meaning and is infused with more layers of significance as the story progresses, so the many memories of beach trips gone by filled my mind and gained a new sweetness as I experienced another beach chapter in our lives. We had an unbelievable house which was on a narrow strip of Folly Beach- called the "wash out" because it is precisely that, a washed out strip of a barrier island. From the front porch of our house we could see the pounding waves and from the back porch we could watch the quiet beauty of the marsh as the sun set in the West. The dramatic contrast of these landscapes had very different emotional effects. Jason and I enjoyed contrasting the incessant pounding and unending energy of the ocean with the slow, gentle change of the marsh. Both are repetitive, cyclical, and dramatic and yet, while one bursts with energy, the other brings a quiet peace.
I finished a book this week called OUT STEALING HORSES by Per Petterson. At first I didn't really think I enjoyed the book, but during the course of the week I found that it provided insight into my own life. Petterson describes the landscape saying, "Each movement through the landscape took color from what came afterwards and cannot be separated from it." While he is describing the forests of Norway, Petterson might as well be describing a sunset over the South Carolina low country. As the pink glow slowly grows and the egrets begin to take flight in the sunset, the marsh seems to add layer upon layer of life and color.
Watching my children jump in the waves and build drip castles on my legs or seeing my mom and her sisters laugh and tell stories I felt the repetitiveness of time- the moving forward and yet, like the marsh, the present gaining meaning from all that has gone before. There is life in these coastal islands, life which binds our family together in all our memories past and the new ones yet to be made.
And Clay...thanks for bringing back Grandaddy's beach chair. Love to all of you.
Another magical Oregon day spent out on Sauvie Island (remember the pumpkin patch??) with Grammy, Pops, our friend Tricia, and our crew. We picked eight pints of organic strawberries, chatted with some very noisy pigs, and explored a lavender farm. Yes, the beautiful Oregon summer has arrived. Under a bright blue sky and seventy degree temperatures we picked ruby red strawberries and sat in awe of Mt. Hood, Mt. Adams, and Mt. St. Helens, all of which were visible from the strawberry field. What fun!
(all our beach and Chattanooga/Atlanta pics are on my flickr page at 