There’s light before sunrise, but it almost takes a camera to see it.
I set up on Moonstone Beach 25 minutes before the sun rose, and needed a flashlight to get there.
The biggest problem was getting the camera focused…had to do it manually. Set it for a 20-second exposure. Guessed at what the image would be.
Here’s what the camera recorded:
As I hurried back to the car after taking that photo from yesterday’s post, I made only one mistake:
I walked along the Brookings beach toward the stairway instead of climbing straight up the shore to the road.
When we leave the California North Coast in a month to return to Dayton, we’re heading north to attend a wedding.
We’ll have to stop a couple times as we go…it’s the Oregon coast for goodness sake!
That seemed enough excuse to make a brief run across the border and check out some RV parks.
Brookings is a great town we’ve visited several times before, and we love its shoreline near sunset.
Here’s a clue why:
Once again, I find myself tantalized by an unidentified bird.
This one was along the Trinity River we showed you yesterday.
I managed to snag this frame a year ago as we were on our way to Klamath Falls. The day was gray, and I struggled to get enough light to keep the image sharp…and the bird was soooo far away!
I don’t think it’s the Golden Eagle I want it to be…the white band on the ends of its wings and tail don’t fit, and there doesn’t seem to be any yellow on the beak.
Love to hear your thoughts….
Hey, we found another vista…there’s more to the North Coast than just the coast!
Actually, we took a cross-country route to the Winter Wings Festival in Klamath Falls, OR last year, and enjoyed the route so much we went back to part of it this year.
A road immediately beside our RV park heads due east and immediately begins to climb into some low mountains. About 30 miles in, we turned north to follow the Trinity River, and here’s where it really got interesting.
The deep chasm for the river, and the heavy growth of trees and shrubs beside the winding road…which only had sporadic pull-outs for us to stop and shoot…kept me from really documenting the scenery.
Grandpa Fell traveled with us for the day, and he shot every chance he got!
We managed to spot only one large bird all day…an Osprey carrying a long branch to the nest.
The waves really were remarkable this day in Crescent City!
Waves around here are funny…they tend to occur in two ways: in long lines that tend to be quite uniform from one to the next and are swells that might be kind of big, OR a bunch of erratic bits and pieces of waves that move at different rates and some curl big time and put out all kinds of spray and one will hit that big rock and another will come along and hit this rock.
These waves were something…long lines that started as a large swell, then grew and grew, then started to curl, then made a mad rush to the shore, only to meet suddenly with all the rocks at the edge….
Our peninsula tapered back on one side of its face, so the waves hit there a moment later….
A couple weeks ago, we showed you some pictures of waves crashing on the rocks in Crescent City when Jared and I got brave and hopped from rock to rock to get near the edge.
Those were practice waves.
There was a warning in dour coastline weather forecast about “high surf”, and yet the weather was supposed to be pretty warm and clear. Robyn and I said “Crescent City!”
A little background about the place. Some people call it Tsunami City, because it has been on the receiving end of 31 tsunamis since 1933. The largest, which resulted from the 1964 Alaska earthquake…the largest earthquake ever recorded in North America…remains the largest and most destructive recorded tsunami to ever strike the United States Pacific Coast.
We knew our drive would put us into Crescent City pretty near high tide, and with the unusually high waves that were forecast, and with the rocks along the Crescent City shoreline, and with the town’s notable history for producing the big waves….
Our first clue was at the light house.
But we knew the trip was worth it when we got to the little peninsula where Jared and I had gone out on the rocks. Where he and I had stood was now being pounded by spray upwards of 40 feet high! The gulls seemed not to notice….