Bonfires on the Beach

When I was growing up my family would drive to Cannon beach for day trips. This was back when it was still a sleepy beach town with no art galleries. I used to love the feeling of cresting the dunes and glimpsing the ocean and sparkling sand. So much room to run and play. I loved it.

When I became a teenager, I started going a little farther north to Seaside. My friends preferred to walk around the town rather than spend time on the actual beach. The reason of course was to see and be seen. If we spent any time on the sand it was not enough for my liking.

When I became a father, I started going to Long Beach WA. I found it by accident when all the rooms at Seaside were booked. Someone mentioned I should try Long Beach. The town was not over developed and still felt beachy. The beach itself was endless. I could even drive my jeep on the sand, find a remote spot, unload some gear, start a fire, and have the perfect spot all to myself for as long as I wanted. 

So many good memories of watching the sun set against an orange and pink sky while the fire popped and sent tracers into the air. The perfect nights with no clouds and no wind were rare and special. The ocean would take on a magical quality, almost like liquid mercury as it rolled in. The beach was endless left to right, the horizon stretched out with nothing but space and movement; and above the stars would lend its pale light for the dancing shadows of the fire. I always had the feeling that I was the luckiest man on earth. How did one person get to enjoy all of this with no crowds, no lines, no noise.

As my kids started growing up, I decided Long Beach was a perfect spot to buy a home and make it a vacation rental, so we could always visit and have a place to stay. The years went by, and 1 home became 5, basic amenities became high end amenities and a couple of entertainment options became endless options.  It is easy to show up and never want to leave the home.

I am no longer staying in a budget motel, hoping my neighbors will let me sleep.  I have more comforts here than at my actual home. I have a hot tub where I can sit in the bubbling water, be warm and look at the stars in the night sky. I have found that the older I have gotten the easier it is to stay put. But despite all of this, nothing compares to a night on the beach in front of a warm fire, under the canopy of stars with nothing but space all around.

This is why my homes have a wagon for bringing supplies to the beach, because when I visit  one of my homes and I am lucky enough to encounter one of those perfect nights, I go. None of the many upgrades I have added over the years can touch a bonfire on the beach. I hope I never get so comfortable that I forget what brought me here in the first place so many years ago. And I hope if you are lucky enough to visit on one of those perfect nights, you will grab the wagon, load it with fire wood and join me.

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