This is "my bay." The one I grew up on. If I squint my eyes I can see across to Moss Landing...the harbor of my childhood. I have been in Bend so long surrounded by beautiful mountains, an expansive forest and nature in full evolution that I forgot how beautiful my bay is. Then my cousin took some photos and when I saw them, my heart contracted..."my bay."
I have so much history in this spot. It is where I first felt the power of nature. My parents would take me to the beach and while they fished all night I would sleep bundled in the sand. It is where my dad had a dream that one day he would be rich enough to get a little row boat. I loved to sit on a log washed up on the beach, feeling the surge of the tide. I discovered I could (once is blue moon) dig faster than a clam. I have caught fish. I have sailed every part of this bay. I found god and promised to become a nun if only this bay wouldn't swallow me up. When I see this photo I see my dad. He loved this bay...so much so that he wanted to be buried where we could feel the salt spray on our faces when we came to visit his grave. I have tipped a small sail boat and fallen into it's waters bobbing around like a little light buoy. To this day whenever I am at any beach I can fall asleep in a nano second if I hear the surf and smell the air.
I turned my back on god, didn't become a nun and had my wedding reception was on this bay...it has played a large part in my life. The last time I sailed this bay was about 5 years ago...I need to see again.
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