The night the ocean took up in a cloud

I recently moved to the west coast of Oregon.

I Came Here For The Edge Of The World, To Live Near The Sea Like Ariel And Annabel Lee.

But what nobody told me was the fantastic truth about this land: it’s the land where children’s tales and folklore were born.

Just yesterday, I saw a toadstool big as my long-haired chihuahua, Gizmo. And on my third day in this land, I saw a tiny green fairy zipping around the woods, intent on her business and every bit as delicate as I expected with her rainbow laced wings.

And in the woods just behind my RV home, there’s a bog of quicksand straight out of a movie- there’s a vine and everything! I can just hear Westley and Buttercup, and I keep a sharp eye out for ROUSes.

And if you don’t believe me, you’ll just have to come see for yourself.

Yesterday I was followed by the Great Wolf. I know because I found his tracks when I retraced the way home from my walk, they were huge and I could see the slashes at the tip of the giant toe beans- evidence of his great claws.

Oh and on my birthday, not three days ago, I saw deerberries and I wandered through a sea of long wispy grass- the tips of which stabbed through my pants like needles- as if goin’ on a bear hunt! I wandered west through the grassland for an eternity before coming upon the most divine and dreary beach.

And on that beach, I was delighted to see driftwood in shapes varied and imaginative as the clouds!

I walked just at the water’s edge, as I often do on beaches, glancing at the waves every split second- I know better than to turn my back on the trickster Ocean. As much as I love Her, I’m not a fool. She can be cold and cruel and Her waters show no mercy if you’ve forgotten your respect. Still, I’m new to this land and I don’t know the rules of the sea, so despite my looking often, I had no idea I was in danger…

And that’s when a tall old man cried out after me.

“Be careful,” he shouted.

Despite the wind and crashing waves, I heard him clear as day. And curious about what he might be doing on this isolated beach with me and knowing full well he couldn’t have just hiked through the same path I did (there were parts of the trail only six inches to pass through, with seven-foot walls of earth on either side, roots crawling out and swallowing me up with each step) I ran up to meet the man.

“Thank you for looking out for me,” I said, “can you tell me more? Why do I need to be careful today? Is this what big waves look like?”

I’m sure I sounded foolish, but this land is new to me and despite my knowing the Ocean has great power, I don’t really know yet the difference between a large wave and a small one. So I stood on the grassy dune at the dreary beach with this old man talking for at least an hour. He taught me about how to survive quick sand and explained about the storm about to come crashing in on this beach. I learned he is a programmer and an herbalist, to which I responded, “are you in the market for a best friend?” and I meant it!

Too soon but just in time, the man returned to his wife who was waiting in the car nearby. He was part of search and rescue and had only stopped to take some photos and check the beach to make sure everyone was being safe, lest they need his services later that day or worse.

And This Is The Beginning Of The Story Of How The Ocean Took Up In A Cloud One Night.

Just last night, in fact. The storm started as a drizzle, speckling and splashing onto the tin roof of my RV home. I take refuge in the sound, a reminder of this beautiful new home of mine. Though I must admit my sense of refuge was a little shaken when the water went from a drizzling to a pouring… to a wall of water splashing down from the sky, as if God held a giant bucket right above my home and tipped it down all at once, and then again a half-second later, and then again still!

I woke at 2:22a.m. in a sleepy sort of thrill, peeking out the windows and feeling the wind shake the whole house. I’m quite isolated from the wind, usually, given all the trees around me. But I guess nobody told this wind, because it sliced through the trees like it didn’t know any better at all. I said a silent prayer that all the trees near me would please stay standing and not crash into my home and break it.

The Ocean was once two miles west of here, and I could hear Her crashing down most nights. I fell asleep to the steady hushhhh of the waves, constant and soothing and terrifying and awe-inspiring all at once. But when the storm pretended to clear at a quarter-to-three this morning, I could hear that the Ocean had moved at least a mile nearer. I imagined the mile of dunes, and the shock of the Ocean above it. They’d make for a beautiful seafloor, anyway.

It must not have been enough, because after a while the storm picked back up and I heard the Ocean take to the sky again. This time She clung to the clouds and came crashing down and down and down, exploring every inch of the land. She poured down over the whole forest like a tub in the sky, large enough to splash out for miles in one go, and She did. She must have grown tired of the crabs at Her floor and the waste on Her beaches and the tragic warming of Her evolutionary home, because last night ‘round 3:00a.m. She decided She was sick of it and She became the sky.

And that’s why, today, we no longer see rolling clouds, but instead see the waves of the sea above. She has taken up to find a new home, and I hope She finds all that She is looking for and more.

The end.