I’m sipping my morning coffee contentedly. It’s instant. I don’t care much about that – it’s fine. It’s even fairly good. There’s a sea breeze blowing through the open patio door. The breeze carries the scent of the sea from beyond the bay, and the sounds of sea birds beginning their day. It’s quite early, but past daybreak. A sunrise that I won’t see is imminent, and the skies are cloudy and hinting at more rain. From the desk in my hotel room, I can see gulls walking over the sand of the beach. The tide is out, and Siletz Bay has emptied and become a vast muddy flat, speckled with various seabirds: gulls, herons, and other birds I can’t name.

I woke gently after a long-seeming night of decently good quality rest. I woke several times for no obvious reason, but it is a hotel, and it is rather noisy here even during the wee hours. Still, I got ample rest and woke feeling merry and definitely ready for coffee. Without hesitation, I dressed and made my way out and down to the beach for a walk in the cool morning breeze along the edge of the beach before returning to the room and making this very satisfying cup of coffee.

I opened the balcony door wide, to let in the sea breeze and the sound of the ocean. I can’t see it from this “ocean view” room on the first floor, but I can hear it. I’m not complaining, and I’m not dissatisfied, just saying – there’s no actual view of the ocean from this room. The bay is plenty entertaining and visually beautiful (the changing tides see to that). I gaze out through the open balcony door across the bay. Am I hearing thunder? I start feeling a bit chilled, in spite of this cup of hot coffee, so I put on my favorite baggy sweater for warmth, rather than close the door. I sip my coffee.

It’s been a good trip for creative work. I’m very satisfied so far with my progress, as I’ve switched to pastels and now need to learn this new medium. I’m enjoying the studious work of learning something new. I’m focused on landscapes for the most part, and it’s these that drew me to pastels – specifically sunrises and sunsets. There’s no further “why” to any of that, it’s simply the source of my current inspiration. I see a lot of sunrises.

It’s been a wholly satisfying break, and I definitely needed the downtime. Today, too, is mine. Mine for reflection, mine for walking, mine for reading, napping, wondering, and wandering. Mine for artistic study and for painting, or even for simply “playing with the colors”. Today begins with more rest, less stress, and hopefully ends with still more rest, and more resilience. The goal is to return home tomorrow ready to see my Traveling Partner through his recovery from his upcoming surgery without feeling exhausted, burdened, or so stressed that I just … can’t. It’s an endurance race, not a sprint – and this much needed pause along the way is intended to keep me in the race, all the way to the finish line, probably some time close to the winter holidays. (Realistically, although his initial recovery from the surgery itself may be pretty quick, I expect it may take some weeks or months for my Traveling Partner to get back to 100%, and I’d like to be quite useful and helpful and available for anything he may need to get there, over that time.)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The sea breeze fills my lungs, and freshens the room. As the unseen sunrise progresses, I see the palette of the morning beach scene beyond the window change. There are now more shades of sandy beiges, and hints of bright green where strands of seaweed have been left behind by the receding tide. The darker browns of large pieces of driftwood, and the dark grays of the rocks that dot the beach along the bay stand out against the sand. The water is a chilly pale gray, with a hint of blue, and the sky above is quite the same, with a fluffier quality. To the west, a heavy foggy mist clings to the mountainside, obscuring the view. What sort of day will it be, I wonder?

…Where does this path lead?..

It’s too early yet to paint. The natural light coming in through the patio door isn’t yet enough. The interior lights of the room “aren’t the right color”. I laugh at my preferences regarding such things. I know me; if I were truly moved to paint something, with a specific idea in mind, the lighting as it is would not be sufficient to stop me. It’s just not my moment, artistically. I’m happy to sit, write, and drink coffee awhile longer. I think about making breakfast. I think about… beginning again. It’s a lovely day for it.

I breathe. Exhale. Relax. This moment, just as it is, is quite enough. I smile to myself and sip my coffee.