by Marvina Randle

Created on: November 21, 2008

I start and end every day I am at home by looking out my window at Mt. Adams, a snowcapped sleeping giant in the Cascade Mountains of Washington State. Her beauty restores my faith on a daily basis and provides our small community with fresh water, fresh air, and abundant wildlife. Living in the mountains is a lifestyle more than a location. Life is simple here and for many the beauty of the mountains that surrounds us spoils us because we see it every day. Therefore, when I dream of that "perfect vacation" the sound of surf crashing against rocks, the smell of the ocean surf, and the memory of sand washing out from under my feet always comes to mind. I remember the awe I felt when I saw my first whale surface or sea lions sunbathing on nearby rocks; the morning on the Oregon coast when a treasure of half dollar sized agates washed in with the tide; and how fun it was to body surf in the warm waters of the Pacific in Mazatlan, Mexico or the boyant waters of the Atlantic near Daytona Beach, Florida.

The power of the ocean never ceases to amaze me and her beauty always captivates me. It is like a medication that must be given at least once a year to keep me healthy and ready for adventure. I try to make it to the beach at least once a year and have been lucky enough to have traveled every mile of Pacific Highway 1 and 101 from Neah Bay at the Northwest tip of Washington State to the Mexican border and on the Atlantic Ocean side from Myrtle Beach, South Carolina to the southern most point of the United States, Key West, Florida.

On the Atlantic side I have walked the beach at Edisto State Park in South Carolina by moonlight at low tide and found numerous sea shell treasures; watched a shark snap an anglers line when it jumped out of the water at the end of the Daytona Peer; witnessed a giant sea turtle trying to hide under a floating piece of plywood leftover from hurriane Rita; and laughed at a curious manatee near Florida's Kennedy Space Center. I have been swimming in the payful surf of the Atlantic where dolphins showed off for me and then had an armadillo run for cover under the wooden walkway as I returned to shore. I have looked out across an ocean bay and watched as the blue sky turned orange then red then purple and finally to midnight blue as millions of brilliant shars shining above watched me as I sat on a bench under a tree alive with the buzz of thousands of insects singing their song of goodbye to the day, not distrubed in the least at the constant

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