Hail, much-needed too-short vacation. It didn’t take long to be washed brainclean by the sound of real ocean waves. As much as I adore Puget Sound, she’s just not the same as the Oregon coast’s vigorous roll of wave-on-wave. I can try to describe it, but the main thing is its own wordlessness. I can muse about the generations of human beings who have spent time staring into these same shore’s waves– always the same, always changing, but the presence of the sea itself (or being present by its side) is an immersive picture of ageless timeless. And boy is that awesome for remembering your size in the scheme of things. That’s what vacations are for, oh ye who think you are indispensable to whatever work has you by its throat (guilty, here).