Waving goodbye to our Seattle family, we turned the car
south and drove down through Washington in pouring rain.
That's typical weather in the Pacific Northwest.
But, once we crossed into Oregon the rain let up and sun came out.
We welcomed the dry roads.
Stopping at a typical roadside rest area,
we were surprised to find a gem of a spot:
"Grove of the States".
A trail wound around an assortment of trees and each was
wearing a label with its name plus the state it represented.
In this one place there were oaks, maples, a palm tree or two,
cypress and pines. Such a pretty place.
Such a blessed break from the drive.
We took our time and read the names of all 50 trees.
Refreshed and renewed, we climbed back in the car to keep going.
I couldn't even tell you where this particular area is located
but I'm sure glad we happened upon it.
Rather amazing (or "awesome" as my young grandson declares) to find
such a vast variety of trees from different growing areas all thriving in one specific place.
Our tired bodies were so happy to find another surprise later in the day.
This no-name motel offered more than a bed and shower.
Situated just a short walk from the Pacific Ocean and beach,
at the end of this boardwalk, was a deck area with 2 amazing hot tubs.
After dinner we soaked away the stiffened, mile-worn muscles while
gazing upwards at the myriad of stars.
Our background music was the roar of the waves, unseen in the blackness of the night.
The next morning ocean was once again hidden, this time by fog.
Again the roar was heard rather like a freight train in the distance.
We kinda wished we could stay a few more days to walk the sand, soak a bit more
and sleep to the lullaby of the ocean waves, but the Redwood Forest
was calling our name.
California here we come!