I'm proud to have made it 25% of the way to my 100 day project goal. In honor of this, I'd like to share a little story about a 25 cent prize.
It was a rare treat when I was growing up to go to the beach. If you live by the water, you take it for granted. The beautiful blue, the tides, the smell of the salt air, and of course, the seagulls. On occasion we would get to spend the day and sometimes even a night at the Oregon Coast.
I have the fondest memories of driving the windy, scenic drive from Salem to one of the Oregon coastal towns: Lincoln City, Seaside, Canon Beach. The words "Ocean Beaches" on the highway signs meant we were in for the greatest of adventures. Kite flying, drift wood fort building, and clam chowder at Mo's. And of course, a quarter. My grandpa would give a single quarter to the person that spotted the first seagull.
He was kind and patient and always good for his 25 cents. We would move from the car to lunch, because by the time we would all get in the car and drive an hour to the beach it would be 12pm. Maybe later. Now that I have three kids of my own, let's say I can empathize.
Getting a table big enough for my brothers, sister, aunts and uncles took a a few minutes. It was long enough for my sister, brothers and cousins to evaluate all the gift shop options at least two or three times. A quarter didn't buy much in the gift shop even then, but probably my mom chipped in to round up to buy a prized seashell. I loved seashells. I still do. To this day, it is nearly impossible for me to walk by a whole sand dollar on the beach. I'm exceptional at finding them. Event today, I filled my pocket with a few pieces of tumbled glass from Glass Beach.
After we'd had our fill of chowder, we'd make our way too the beach. Bunker down in the wind and cold and run and play at the edges of the ocean. My grandpa would use his cane to make way to a lawn chair on the beach, or sometimes he would stand on the boardwalk after the sand became too difficult to navigate. He'd bring stale bread from grandma's kitchen, take a piece and hoist his arm in to the air, The seagulls gratefully swooped in and collected their prize right from his hands.
As he aged it became more difficult to make the journey. I still remember our last drive the beach. I guess I knew it would be the last time we made that journey together.
I stood in the cool pacific air earlier today, overlooking beautiful sun soaked coasts. It was brisk and windy, like our days in Oregon. The evening fog had not yet lifted. Still now, all these years after he died, I felt him there with me.
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