Reminiscing on Cannon Beach
We stood at the edge of the tide. Well, we started at the edge of the tide when it was still low. And as it came in, I felt my toes slowly sinking into the sand below my feet. It was a nice reprieve from the freezing water rushing over my ankles. It felt like I was watching God play with watercolor paints as the sunset over the Pacific Ocean. Blue turned to pale yellow and pink and orange and light purple. The water glistened with speckled rays of light. And I just stood there trying my best to soak it in, never to forget it. I was also snapping photos with every change of the sky, going through 15 shots, reloading, then another 15 more quickly than was probably necessary. I felt a tinge of guilt as the chilly breeze blew over my shoulders, knowing that I was keeping my baby girl out way too late in the air that was growing colder by the minute. The sight of her snuggled next to my husband’s chest in her baby carrier, asleep and content assuaged my guilt slightly. Side Note: Now that I’m older, and not too much wiser, with two kids in tow, I continue to break bedtimes for sunsets. I keep them out late to experience the world when we are on trips. And, occasionally, when they can’t sleep, I let them snuggle up and watch the golden sunlight that is cast across my bedroom on a warm summer night. They are only little once, right? This was the third time my husband, Ben, and I had gone to Cannon Beach. We’d gone, the first time, while on a trip to Oregon for a one-on-one workshop I was attending. It had been 100 degrees in Portland, so after standing outside Blue Star Donuts (which was totally worth it because the hazelnut chocolate ganache donut was rich and creamy and nutty and perfect), and sweating inside of Powell’s Book Store while fighting crowds just to find a book I never actually read, we decided to head to the beach. It was stunning. So different from any beach I’d ever been to. It felt protected by the cliffs and the evergreens, and Haystack Rock is massive. I always thought the photos of it had been doctored in some way.The second time we went to Cannon Beach, we had photos done with one of my favorite photographers and someone I called a mentor to me in the wedding industry. And it was such a wonderful experience, aside from the fact that a tiny baby girl cried the entire way there. But once we were there, playing with her on the beach and knowing we’d get some incredible photos of the three of us back, it was so peaceful. We ended up going back the next day. Sofie slept the entire way there this time.And the final time we went to Cannon Beach was when I was pregnant with Henry. It was 2020, and things were just opening up from Covid-19. I’d been so depressed about spending my entire pregnancy in the apartment, and I needed to get away, even if I had to strategically plan all my bathroom breaks along the way so they lined up with public toilets that were actually open, wear masks in public spaces and accept that it was just going to be a different trip. It was still magic. We roasted marshmallows on the beach, made sandcastles with Sofie, ate shrimp on the beach on a windy day. That last one ended with sand in our shrimp, so we gave up on our little picnic. We walked along the water and explained tide pools to a 2 1/2 year old. We ate pastries in bed, and we talked about how it was so strange that in just a short few months, our son would be with us.I feel a little disappointed that we never made it back to Oregon with Henry. Life is so much busier with two little kids, especially when one of them is in ballet and gymnastics and ice skating. It gets to a point where, some weekend days, I just want to go nowhere, do nothing, and see nobody. Is that just an introvert thing? Or is it a mom thing? I feel guilty, and again, disappointed that we never got family photos done with that photographer once Henry was born. To make myself feel better, I just think of all the beaches we have taken Henry to and all the places we’ll go as a family of four in the future and all the pictures we’ll be in together. But it won’t stop me from remembering my toes in that sand and the freezing tide against my ankles and the stinging from where I’d shaved that morning and the shivering I felt as I tried to keep as steady as possible so I could take a timelaps of the sun setting. I’ll never forget that place, that magical beach that took my breath away and gave me a moment of peace at a time that was so stressful. I’ll never forget smelling the sea and Christmas at the same time. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit sarahcarpenter.substack.com/subscribe
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