I’m feeling behind on a lot of things right now. It was last month—last month!—that I stayed in a beach house for the first time, which is kind of wild considering I grew up only an hour and a half away from the Oregon coast (we always just did day trips). This time, my family stayed for the weekend and braved the winding road in and out of Ecola State Park, explored Fort Clatsop, and toured Astoria’s Columbia River Maritime Museum. At my husband’s urging, the four of us went out to the beach after dark one night. We hadn’t taken a vacation in a year. It was so nice to get a change of scenery and pace!
Confession time: When I was a kid, I hated going to the beach. I used to complain about it each summer, and pretty much the only part I enjoyed was my dad taking me to feed the seals at the Seaside Aquarium. As an adult, I’ve grown to appreciate my complicated relationship with the beach, especially as I’ve experienced different ones.