Thanksgiving

It's raining tonight; 46 degrees. It's been raining for about 36 hours, on and off. It's chilly and damp. The air is fresh though, and breathing deeply is so beautiful; my lungs are so happy to be inhaling the beauty of the air here in Washington state. It smells like such a variety of things; in the higher country it smells like pine trees, damp ground, leaves and the clean smell of air being purified by thousands of pine trees. Close to the ocean it smells salty, brisk, heavy. I've caught the scent of pine needles, wet moss, a sweetness I have not been able to identify. There has been good, clean wood smoke coming from chimney's. There has even been that distinct, sharp, sour odor of paper mills processing thousands of waiting trees. And, since it is Washington, I have also caught the distinctive smell of recreational cannabis - perfectly legal here in this state.

Last night we ran out of propane, so at some point in the night it got cold in here. Today was Thanksgiving, so finding propane could have been a chore. Fortunately (for us) WalMart doesn't like to miss a sale (unfortunately, for their employees having to work on a holiday). So, while I was sad that those employees had to work, I was grateful just the same.

Astoria, after moonrise,
from  the (north)
 Washington side of the Columbia River

We spent the day meandering. We drove through country roads, mostly, and we ended up in Astoria, Oregon. Of course I thought of the movie The Goonies - "hey, you Guys! I love you chunk!".

Bridge from Astoria toward the ocean

 We headed a bit farther down to      Ft. Stevens beach. This is the site of the famous-in-this-area shipwreck Peter Iredale, which went down in 1906. It's pretty amazing to see. It is also the point where the Columbia River meets the Pacific Ocean. It's quite something to experience. The Pacific itself is so impressive.

We moved on to Seaside for a bit, but the rain came up on us. We traveled a bit further south, just past Canon Beach (home of Haystack Rock) to a little rest area. It was completely peaceful; we were the only ones there. The tide was out, so we could walk down among the huge rocks. It was so beautiful and peaceful. We ended up staying there until after sunset, and all the light was gone from the sky.

The drive back was full of rain, in sections. We were probably about 100 miles from here. The moon came up and just over Astoria the sky cleared a bit, and the reflection of the moon over the river on the Washington side was so beautiful. Freighter ships were lined up in a row - waiting for tomorrow's load out, I imagine. The drive back was peaceful and quiet.

Because it is Thanksgiving we had limited dinner choices. From previous travels we learned that Denny's stays open on Thanksgiving. Not much was open all day - all the little coffee shops, Starbucks, and every other fast food place you can think of was closed. To me that was pleasing; I was so happy to know that all those folks were home with their families on the holiday.

But Denny's stays open. As we got there a man; pretty obviously homeless; was coming in at the same time we were. He made a beeline back toward the restrooms to the left, and we were seated to the right. After we ordered I went into the restroom. There was a homeless woman taking a sink bath with paper towels. There was grime and water splashed everywhere. She would not make eye contact with me, and kept turning her head away from me, so after I washed my hands I went back to our table. I'm not sure what I would have said or done, regardless. She came out after a long time, a blanket over her head, hiding her face. She rushed out the front door to the waiting man I had seen earlier. He was dressed shabbily, worn army green backpack over his shoulders, long dread-locked hair tucked under a hat and inside his coat. When she came out they started speaking in sign language to each other. It made me sad. Not from embarrassment for them, but to think they were out in the night with no obvious place to sleep that I could see; out in the rain of the night and the past two days. How does that happen to a person? Down on their luck maybe; I get that. But it could just be a desire to live life on their own terms. I will never know. But I started counting my blessings for my family, for my friends; for those who would not let me be in such a position to being with. So today, Thanksgiving day in the beautiful state of Washington I am counting my blessings.


That I am not homeless. That, although for me money is tight, I have enough to pay for the roof over my head. My trip was paid for, and I count my blessings for that. I am grateful for a family and friends I can turn to before I am in dire straights. I am grateful for all I have been through - both good and bad, because the road of those life lessons brought me to this here and this now. As we drove back to the campground on those wet, dreary streets, warm from the heat of the truck, my stomach content from a warm meal, I found myself searching for that couple and sending them blessings from my heart. I wish upon them the blessings of peace, of warmth, a shelter during their travels in Washington in late November, at the start of rainy season. I hope their choices in life fill their hearts with happiness; that the freedom of a life of wandering makes them happy and fills them with peace.