Lucky Me
Part 3 of The Sou'wester Diaries
May 28, 2026
The prompt today was, “sit and do nothing for five minutes, then write.”
There’s something different about intentionally doing nothing, versus unintentionally. I sat up straighter, I breathed deeper. I tried to be aware of where my mind went. My gaze was drawn to the window in front of me to the tall tops of trees in the distance, with hazy morning sun glowing through. No sounds except little bird tweets and trills. I found myself longing for places that are dominated by nature, where there’s less city and less people and time moves slower. Where there’s space. I often go back to Chico in my mind, the long days of just following impulses, biking to brunch with friends and making art in the backyard and hanging out for hours on the porch. “Going outside” wasn’t a conscious choice really- the outside was just more incorporated into daily life. Now it feels like there’s a distinct separation. I often feel that Portland is too much for me. But would I feel bored by a smaller city? I think I would miss all the creative things that are always happening around me, whether or not I participate in them. I like knowing that they’re there, that I can participate if I choose to.
I keep thinking of making Wednesdays a be-alone-in-nature day, maybe drive out to the Gorge and one by one, do all the hikes. I’ve spent a lifetime trying to figure this out- how to be alone, how to be with other people. It feels impossible. Well no, it just feels really hard and that it’s going to take a lot of effort.
I’m having my coffee in bed. Gonna eat some granola, then shower, then pack a lil lunch and go on a hike. Lame dreams again last night, and one that was actually scary- something about a witch. I was woken up by a sound, which I think was me saying something or letting out a groan. I looked around the dark camper and had a flash of a thought- “I could go back early, tomorrow instead of Friday.” I felt frightened and suddenly didn’t like being alone. Then back to sleep for more disturbing dreams. Maybe my subconscious is having a purge. Spring cleaning.
Had a lovely day, maybe the best day yet. I feel restored, regulated, back to “normal”? Went out to Cape Disappointment State Park (trying not to get my hopes up too high)- first had to get the rundown on the different trails from the info center, it’s a bit confusing and some trails were closed. Did one of the lighthouse trails, 1.5 miles, which was cool and all but what I didn’t expect was this really amazing and magical and kind of eerie tucked away beach called Dead Man’s Cove. A steep rickety path down and I was in this tight little hollow, a scrap of beach covered in driftwood with steep cliffs on either side and a lumpy little island in between, topped with one scraggly pine tree. The waves rushed wildly in, splitting at the island and crashing on shore, foaming over the driftwood. A family of four arrived a few minutes after me, mom and dad and two kids- the kids ran towards the water as it shrank, then sprinted away from it squealing as the waves rushed back in. The mom gazed out at the water and the dad followed the kids’ movements with a video camera. I didn't know anything about them and their vacation, of course, but I had a feeling that this was the best part, the moment they will all remember.
I sat on a log and considered pulling out my sketchbook but I knew that as soon as I did, it would change the experience for me. Suddenly it would be all about me and my artistic abilities, translating the scene into my own perspective. I would get caught up in how accurate I wanted the drawing to be, and how successfully I was able to execute it. I would be bringing my ego into it. So instead I just sat there and tried to be as present and observant as possible (and took pictures).
After that, the lighthouse was kinda meh. I checked out this other viewpoint called Bell’s View I think, which is apparently one of the windiest places in the world. I sat at a nearby fort of some kind and ate my sandwich and apple.
But I still wanted more of a hike so I did the 2 mile coastal forest loop which was the best because no one was there- I encountered only one other person (the other trails were quite busy). It had that hushed, cozy feel of a secluded forest. Some of the trail was deep in the woods, some of it skirted the coastline. I saw lots of banana slugs and birds (and mosquitos) and a few little black snakes with one yellow stripe going down the middle. Garter snakes maybe. As I approached them they would slither slowly off the trail into the brush.
Back at the ranch I decided to go ahead and do some watercolor painting which I’ve been putting off for some reason. I put on Blair Braverman’s podcast, “What To Carry, What To Burn” (so good) and did some paintings of Dead Man’s Cove and the buoy tree. I got into a flow state and lost track of time which is the best.
Oh- before I started painting I heard my Australian neighbor talking to someone who was asking her what she was making. She told him and he said, “What?” And she said, “A boulder- you know, like, a big rock?” It’s a boulder, you guys. Not a vulva. I guess she does have a pretty strong accent.
I made an improvised dinner of pan cooked gnocchi with a sauce made of chicken stock, tomatoes, and cream cheese and topped it with legit parmigiano and damned if it wasn’t delicious. When I sat down to eat I took a moment as sort of saying grace but really I was just taking it all in and saying thank you to the powers that be, to myself, to everything and everyone that contributed to this experience. What a gift, to be able to follow every urge and impulse, uninterrupted, for three full days. I felt this amazed gratitude, the kind you feel when you got just what you needed at just the right time.
(Got one more rainbow in, at Sleeper Coffee in Astoria on the way home. Yes, lucky me.)