Tillamook Coast Life Blog
What Can Nature Do for You? Part 2 (Sensory Focus)
The natural beauty of the Tillamook Coast is its own sensory reward. However, it can also spark inspiration and provide perspective while in its presence.
What can nature do for you? In the first part of this essay series, I detailed some of the physical and mental benefits of time spent outdoors. In part two, I’d like to extend into the inspiration and perspectives that can be gleaned from time spent enjoying the natural beauty of the Tillamook Coast. This is a special place. It’s where my favorite trees of fragrant needles and flat leaves connect the sand to the soil. Here there is life, beauty, and abundance that is impossible not to be touched or influenced by.
I’ll start with the coastline so regularly battered by wind, rain, and surf. It absorbs some of the most brutal onslaughts that the elements have to offer with reliable, historic consistency. And as long as there have been human memories to detail such things, it has exuded an uncommon beauty and resilience in the face of it all. This place is home to some of the most wondrous and life-affirming landscapes I’ve ever laid eyes on. Perhaps not despite what it goes through, but because of it.
The ocean is capable of doing extraordinary things beyond carving memorable coastlines. If observed for long enough, she doesn’t mind imparting pearls of wisdom while eroding grains of sand. Have you ever taken the time to sit and observe the outgoing tide over time? Sometimes the patterns left in the sand develop precisely how I think they will. And other times, in ways I could never have imagined.
Occasionally a single wave will disturb an otherwise ceaseless pattern and leave a mark on everything in its literal wake. It takes just one incident. One unforeseen event permanently alters what remains for us to see or encounter after the fact. Often, the change is slight – producing a barely noticeable exception. Other times, however, the divergence from what previously existed is pronounced. And those who weren’t there for it will never know or understand why.
Then there’s the coastal forest. It’s a melding of age ranges and types. Mature second growth, stands of more recent regrowth, and even parcels of untouched ancient timber can all be found in these woods. Each displays its unique beauty from day to day, season to season, and beyond. White winter coats adorn silent canopies. Countless hues of spring green join in concert with the evergreens. Multicolored summer wildflowers populate the forests and meadows along with bird calls both foreign and familiar. While running salmon and turning leaves champion the cause of fall.
The forest here has also taught me that sometimes you grow the way you have to grow. Ideally, that would be straight up with strong, deep roots, ample nourishment, water, sunshine, and the stability and protection afforded by those around you. But circumstances occasionally cause trunks to bifurcate or limbs to divert, split, and repair to some degree before reaching toward the sun again. Roots and limbs are regularly forced to contort or travel great distances to access the resources needed for growth.
While downed nurse logs provide “ecological facilitation” for future flora and fauna, they eventually decay and erode. Leaving roots that may not be traditionally ideal, but have become agile and strong. Adaptable and capable of providing continued growth and a crown in the sun.
That’s what nature does for me. It possesses and emanates a beauty in which I find constant inspiration, perspective, and gratitude. And that’s just the beginning.
