WALKING ON WATER

We lucked out on the weather for the orchid show in Seaside, Oregon weekend before last. After a week of record monsoon rains all along the northwest coast, the sun came out and things had a chance to dry a little.

Working an orchid show is like working any other trade show – major stress for a few days before, preparing and packing everything, getting to the venue, and setting up. Once the show opens, it’s having to be constantly “on” for two days, but that’s like a vacation compared to prep, travel, and load-in.

The good thing about the orchid show was that it closed at 4 or 5 o’clock on both days, so we were able to go out and enjoy the beach in the evenings. The first evening it was calm and clear, and the tide was farther out than I’ve ever seen it. In addition to the regular beach there was a good half-kilometer of sand that must usually be underwater. The clammers were out in droves, hunting for little creatures in the sand with shovels and some sort of suction devices.

I was barefoot, and kept thinking that soon I would be wading in the surf as I headed west, but the sand with a thin layer of water just kept going on and on. The low sun shining on the thin water layer gave me the feeling of walking on the surface of the ocean. As the sun set, the film of water reflecting the light looked just like shimmery gold foil. Now I know what it would feel like to walk on water!

Everywhere we looked there were sand dollars washed up, lying on the sand, covered by that shining film of water. Many of them were intact, perfect circles with the 5-petaled design and 5-pointed star in the very center. That evening we collected 48 perfect sand dollars! I was afraid they might stink up our hotel room that night with rotting invertebrate bodies, but they just emitted a pleasant ocean scent of seaweed and salt water, so the little animals that inhabited the shells must have been long gone. 

I think maybe I should make a Seaside perfume and give away a sand dollar with each bottle!  What would Walking on Water (WOW!) smell like? Salt, iodine, fresh seaweed. fresh air, water, and not much else. It would be like the cathartic, clean feeling one gets from walking on the beach, but without any conventional “aquatic” notes, which really don’t smell like water or fresh air. Something to think about. 

BACK FROM THE BEACH AND FACING ANOTHER WEEK

The orchid show in Seaside was successful for many reasons, not least of which was that it provided an opportunity to get away from everything overly familiar and spend two gorgeous, warm, sunny days at the beach. Seaside is a small tourist town on the Oregon coast, about a 3 to 4 hour drive south of Seattle. The beach is wide, with very fine sand, and a good many broken sand dollars and razor clam shells lying around, but not so many that they can’t be avoided when running or walking along the water’s edge. Between our hotel and the beach was a grassy dune area and a paved pedestrian promenade. The view from our window was the dunes, the beach, and the hill to the south of the beach. At all times of day there was a lot of “fog” kicked up by the surf, but it was especially noticeable in the early morning and evening.

I had to spend most of both days at the show, but did manage to get out on the beach for a few hours each day between closing time and sunset. I’m not a water person. I don’t particularly like to swim, and am not good at it. I don’t like to be in water over my head, and I don’t like to put my face in the water. I hate cold water in all forms, but I do love the beach. I was thinking about this over the weekend, and how strange it is that I’m attracted to the beach when I don’t like to be immersed in bodies of water larger than a hot tub. I decided that the beach itself is neither water nor earth, but air and sun. I’m not superstitious, but I do have enough information about my horoscope to know that it’s almost all air signs, mostly Libra, with a rising sun and some Leo fire thrown in for good measure. This accident of birth could be used to rationalize why I love the beach, and why I grow only “air plants” that don’t require soil, although I suppose it could be used to rationalize just about anything, including why I love the “saltwater taffy” that’s always sold in beach candy shops. To me, the beach represents freedom from whatever earthy constraints there are on land and, at the same time, freedom from whatever dangers are lurking in the deep water. It’s a magical place at the interface between two worlds that I really don’t want to be in.

Fall quarter is in full swing, so it was back to the reality of the classroom as soon as I got home, with theatre rehearsals in the evenings. I need some quality time with my orchids and with the list of orders waiting to be filled, but it probably won’t happen until the weekend. In the meantime, I’ll just try to get through my list as best I can.