10:45 AM today. My wife and I were in the home office, chatting about news. Both of our phones interrupted with multiple chimes and dings. As we both reached for them, she wondered, “What in the world is that noise,” and I said at the same times, “Something has happened, because we’re both getting alerts.”
A USGS Shakealert had been issued. Roughly, ‘Major earthquake detected. Duck and cover. Hold on.’
We’d not felt anything. My wife leaped up and looked out the window. I flipped into search mode on my computer. Email? Nothing. Nextdoor? Nothing.
We turned on the television and searched local news channels and went onto the local radio and television online news sites. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
Facebook had a thread. Someone showed the alert and said, “Do anyone else get this message? Did anyone feel anything?”
Comments began coming in. Where people were, what they’d felt.
I went to the USGS Shakealert site. It was there that I learned about a 7.2 magnitude earthquake off the NorCal coast at 10:44 AM. Aftershocks were felt in some parts of southern Oregon and northern California. A tsunami warning was issued for that affected coastline.
So now we wait to see what happens. We’re not near the affected regions. Fingers crossed, and hopes and prayers.
We’re passing through another day. Today is Thursday, August 22, 2024.
I’m still on the Oregon Coast on vacation. The weather continues favoring us with sunshine, chill temperatures, and clear air. Some friendly clouds pass by with a wave. Right now it’s 60 F, just two degrees from an anticipated high of 62 F. The tide is coming in, so I’ll be going out for a walk along the water.
Rain fell last night. Hearing it, I headed out onto the uncovered patio at a few minutes after midnight, letting it fall over me, breathing in the fresh air, solitude, and sound.
The Internet was mostly down yesterday. While others napped, I wrote or walked along the shore, breathing in the air, enjoying freedom, and thinking, sometimes writing in my head. It was about two miles in each direction. I rarely encountered another. When we did, simple nods and smiles were exchanged, acknowledging the other’s presence. The net returned in time for us to catch the DNC, watching and listening to it as we worked on a jigsaw puzzle.
I continue with the theme of a color in the song’s title today. The Neurons wavered between “Tequila Sunrise” and “Orange Crush” this morning. The 1988 R.E.M. song won my morning mental music stream (Trademark woke). Its energy today just felt right.
Be strong, remain positive, and Vote Blue. Not because I say so but because it’s better for more of us than the alterntive offered by the other party.
Coffee is playing with my body in a welcome way. Here’s the music. Cheers
It’s morning in Yachats. The mythical blue sky has still not been seen. The sun is playing hide and seek. We’ve been looking but it’s well hidden. Stormed all day on the coast. Rain from dawn to midnight. Gusts and gales. Rocking storm surge. Temperatures gamboled from 41 F to 42 F.
Birds returned today. They headed for shelter just like the rest of us yesterday. The rain paid a brief AM visit today, drops scampering across the roof and ground, tapering off to a mere shower. Supposed to be cresting 50 today but we’ll be gone, climbing back over the mountains and south to Ashlandia where the weather ghosts advise it’s more of the same. It’s Friday, April 21, 2023. My resting pulse is at its usual, 58. SP02 is down, 97%.
We turned off the news so we don’t know what’s going on. There’s not been a stream of cars heralding vast evacuations, no warning sirens, etc., so we think the world has trudged on without us. We ate at a favorite place, The Green Salmon. Vegan food, amazingly delicious, wonderful coffee, and that ideal coffee shop café air, where it’s less like a business and more like a passion.
Today’s music offered by The Neurons in the morning mental music stream is “Just Like Paradise.” David Lee Roth. 1987. Get it? Sure, it was just like livin’ in paradise there, even with the rain, as we were as relaxed as a cat sleeping in sunshine. Sure, the hotel wasn’t perfect. Couldn’t connect to the net, and half of the 54 listed channels on TV were advertisements or tutorials for Dish TV. But we were there to hear the waves, smell the sea, and gaze out as far as our eyes could roam the ocean’s horizon. The coast by Yachats remains raw, which is preferable to being filled with tourist bait.
Aside, Roth isn’t a favorite for me. One of my little sisters really liked him when she was a teenager but he never was my style of rock and roll when he separated from van Halen.
I’ve had coffee. Stay pos and ride Friday like it’s a magical unicorn carrying you to wherever you wish. Here’s the music. Cheers
Friends were renting a house in Waldport, Oregon, three bedrooms, three baths. They’d invited their family. Their family couldn’t make it. Would we like to come?
Twist our arms, ouch, ouch, okay, we give, we give, we’ll come! The house wasn’t on the beach, but on a bluff that overlooks the beach, less than a quarter mile to the beach. Topology and beach access rules and agreements made it a ten minute walk to the beach. Not a problem.
We drove through pouring rain to reach Waldport. The sky ratcheted down to a gray sunshine the first night, permitting a walk on the beach. Waldport has fine, sandy beaches, flat, wide, and unpopulated by many others in September. Rain drenched the area that night. We awoke to a misty gray day, but that burned off. Sunshine and blue skies arrived and hung out with us for the next few days, a very welcome guest. Temperatures jumped into the high sixties, flirting with seventy-one inland.
Waldport is a small, comfortable town. Not many eateries called to us but Yachats ten miles to the south and Newport fifteen miles to the north were easy drives up Highway 101. Down in Yachats, we returned to Luna Sea Food twice, and also visited the Green Salmon for some excellent coffee and food. Once again, we struck out when we tried to visit Bread and Roses, as it was closed for the week! Dinner on Tuesday was at the Adobe restaurant in Yachats, where the dining room presented us with an excellent seat to watch the sunset as we ate and drank.
I walked on the beach at least twice a day, in addition to our daily hiking. For the week, I ended up with sixty-five miles on my Fitbit, which was the same as the previous two weeks. I often walked barefoot in the shallows, enjoying the sun-warmed waters churning over my feet.
Meanwhile, we had terrific companions, Marcia, Art, and Lucy. The owners’ net situation kept us off computers except to check email once in a while. We traveled the local coastline, hiking, and visiting the sights. We also walked the Alsea Bay Bridge. Just three quarters of a mile long, the bay’s water were fantastically clear and often shallow. Seals sunned and swum below us, entertaining us with their pastimes (yes, we’re easily entertained). Amanda’s trail in Yachats offered a more challenging walk, giving us fifty flights of steps on our Fitbits, and offering terrific views of the Pacific. Signs warned us about a mama bear and her cubs in the area, so we stayed on guard.
Amanda’s head has been washed away, and has been replaced by a smaller, carved statue of her. Her sad history, shared too many times with other people across America, remains to remind us how inhumane and barbaric Americans and Europeans often treat others.
A return visit to Cape Perpetua was in order, with its short hike to the CCC era stone shelter.
When we were back at the house, time was passed reading, chatting, eating, cooking, drinking wine, and gazing out at the ocean. The moon was waxing and was almost a full moon by the week’s end, splashing its gorgeous glow over the calm, rolling ocean. Not much writing was done, but batteries were drained and recharged.
Got my coffee, and my ass is in the chair. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
Michael Seidel, writer 