Disclaimer: This post is one of those that ended up being written years after the experience was had. While there was a paragraph or two posted way back then with a single photo, there were no other notes taken, so most of what is shared here must be extracted from the images and what memories they may have lent us.

Early Monday morning, we left our yurt at Nehalem State Park in Oregon for a walk south on the Nehalem Spit.

While I can’t hear it at this time, I just know that these crashing waves were offering their part of the symphony we listen to while strolling the ocean at the water’s edge.

Tree stumps are an invasive species here at the edge of the ocean. Without eradication, they’ll quickly populate the beach and grow a forest, so remember to always report to the local authorities when you spot these intruders.

Emerging from the depths, this jellyfish was plotting the takeover of the human race that is poisoning its beautiful sea.

No, seriously, how cold are you?

Our five-mile trek took us to the mouth of the Nehalem River to find this surfer riding the waves where the river meets the ocean. In the relatively narrow channel, the lone surfer waited patiently, and on a few occasions, while we acted as his unseen audience, he would catch a wave that would propel him far up the channel for a ride that seemed to last a couple of minutes.

As stoked as he must have been, so were we at the solitude and beauty of the ocean-side walk. We spent nearly half of our day here.

Another key part of the orchestra and amazing visuals on offer when tuned to channel Oregon Coast in the Fall.

What was the average direction the wind blew overnight? That way, to the right.

If movie theaters in Arizona offered us high-definition live streams of coastal scenes from the more beautiful locations on earth, we’d grab some popcorn and purchase tickets for a double-feature at least once a week.

Leaving a beach is always difficult for Caroline and often requires her to stop a moment for one last look back at what we are leaving behind.

After some serious time spent walking along the coast today, it was time for a good long drive. We’re passing through Rockaway Beach just doing some sightseeing.

We made it as far as Siletz Bay near Lincoln City, Oregon, before turning around as our lodging is back up north.

Blue Heron Cheese Company in Tillamook is always great for a bite to eat, not just for us either.

On Bayocean Road next to Tillamook Bay, we are taking the scenic route to this evening’s lodging.

That spit of land in the middle of the photo is the site of the town of Bayocean, which is long gone. A hotel, bowling alley, and even a 1,000-seat movie theater were out there. By 1960, the last house was destroyed by a storm, and by 1971, the last remnant of a building was scrubbed from the place that was once home to 2,000 inhabitants.

There’s a lighthouse right out here, but for some reason or other, I apparently forgot to take a photo of it, or we didn’t take the walk.

This is part of the trail to the lighthouse, so why there were no photos just doesn’t make any sense.

The view over Short Beach, south of the Cape Meares Lighthouse, that if you squint hard you might see the tiny speck on the furthest outcropping way out there.

It was only a couple of miles between Short Beach and Oceanside, but we moved at what must have been a nearly imperceptible speed.

Look closely, and you’ll notice the clouds below the sun are the same clouds from the photo above. I’m pointing this out as people frequently comment on how beautiful our photos are, and this, I think, exemplifies the importance of changing your perspective and taking more photos than you can ever use, so you have some favorites to choose from.

Three Arch Rocks National Wildlife Refuge in Oceanside, Oregon, means we are returning to the north so we can check in at the state park before the sun fully disappears for the night.

Hawk-eye John spotted this barred owl perched on a branch in the shadowy forest just over the road. I was certain that as I reversed and pulled over for a better look, he’d fly off, but there he was, seemingly staring as intently at us as we were at him.

Cape Lookout State Park south of Tillamook is the place we’ll be taking up a yurt for another night or two as with this kind of sunset and surroundings, who wouldn’t want to linger just a bit longer?