Hubby heard that there was to be a professional surfing competition this morning at our favorite beach spot North of Lincoln City.  We arrived a bit later than he said, and they were either done, or  it was a no go – but the beauty this morning was breath taking.

The beach lies at the base of a tall hill, Lodgepole Pines line the top of the hill, giving way to shore pines twisted by the elements down to the rocky bottom. The hillside is dark. Almost black with no light reflecting on it.  Daylight has crept into town hours earlier, but direct sunshine has yet to peek over the hills.  As the top of the ridge turns yellow/orange/red with the promise of the daybreak, light rays reflect off the whitecaps before us.  The normally white sand is grey and black. The sky is a crisp blue, fog is gray off shore. The ocean churns a dark navy blue. All darkness. Save for the whites of the curls of the waves. Blazingly white. The curls turn yellow and orange and back to white.

We stayed at that place while direct sunlight continued to creep onto the water and into the sand. Inch by inch.  Sitting on a wet driftwood log freshly deposited on the beach the night before while young son played the back and forth game of running with the games while the dog explored and younger son layed cuddled in a sleeping bag in the car with a direct view of us.

I may just need to do mornings a bit differently than I have been!