Gulls & Home

Our going away party: One year ago today!

I sat on the balcony at usually the time where the sun blazes right into my eyes, but today it's different. The sky was prematurely grey with clouds looming over the mountains in the distance where the sun typically retreats behind every night. There was a patch of a brilliant yellowish pink that peaked out a bit in between the mountains and the clouds, and I knew that somewhere in Washington someone was getting a view of a beautiful sunset.

A sunset from the balcony, on a much more impressive day

Without the fantastic display of colors to distract me, I watched the seagulls, whom I'm convince have houses on every roof in Victoria. Some glide lazily along their way before they flap briefly before touching down on the Tudor-styled building across the way, and others flap rhythmically, as if unable to catch a break in the wind. I now love being surrounded by seagulls; they remind me that we really are living in a shore town. Usually I only heard their calls about twice a year when I went down the shore in Jersey, but now I hear them every day.

Sunrise at the Jersey shore, 2010

The beach here is so different. There's no mile-long stretches of umbrellas, dozens of happily screaming children, or people battling the waves at the end of summer for hours. There's no boardwalk, no "Wildwood '04" hoodies, no loud rap music played for the singular pleasure of teenagers. No, here there's little waves with patches of rocky shores mixed with kelp, drift wood, and rocky formations. A beach comber might find about a dozen or so wanderers like themselves, or perhaps an avid reader plopped on a make-shift driftwood seat. When I used to see straight lines, now I have diagonals.

Dallas Road beach in Victoria

There's only ten days until Jon and I leave our rocky shores for smooth, sandy ones. Ten days until we leave our temporary home temporarily to remember what we little details have forgotten. The unfamiliar has become so common place here so quickly, only within a year, but I now long to see something that is known deep within my bones, and is burrowed in my heart. I love living here, but it's time to visit home.

Bay-side sunset adventure.