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#pnw surf
thepictorialist · 2 years
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Fiber Fin—Washington Coast 2014
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northernpintail · 2 months
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Up close with the Surf Scoters
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wayoutwest · 4 months
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Going Coastal - Northern California
Harry Snowden
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iridescent-scales · 1 year
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"In my heart I belong in a house by the sea."
-Moddi
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granthindsley · 5 months
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Surfing, Westport, Washington.
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eopederson2 · 2 years
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Yaquina Head Lighthouse on a Gloomy Day in Autumn, 2005.
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princerupertsglass · 2 months
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Instagram: @PRG.BAND
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nocturnalpicnic · 2 years
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Low clouds, La Push. water color 2022 michael pontieri
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gshubin · 1 year
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You can't stop the waves that life throws at you, but with wisdom you can learn to ride them out. Here's another giant wave crash at Cape Disappointment in Washington. This one is rendered in black and white with a touch of increased contrast. . #45thphoto #washingtonstate #capedisappointment #waves #kingtide #ocean #lighthouse #surge #surf #pnw #ilwaco #willamettevalleylife #roam #oceanbeauty #naturalbeauty #nature #wondersofnature #worldofwonder #lumixusa #wherelumixgoes #lumixg9 #leica1260 #stormysea #pacificnorthwest #pnwadventures #washingtonstate #destinstionpnw (at Cape Disappointment State Park) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn-uiLKpZD1/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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gohandinhand · 11 months
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Would it be okay to ask for a sneak peak of what's coming up in the pnw fic?
Absolutely yes it is! Zero promises on if I'll pull it off, but I'm currently aiming to get the second chapter out on Sunday. Here's a little snippet for you:
There is fog, sometimes, so dense that the air goes opaque, clinging to the trees and covering their hair and bodies in beads of moisture. The sky is concealed from mortal eyes and though Beatrice explains it to her, how the fog rolls in from the sea, Ava harbors a secret suspicion that the clouds have moved down; given into their need to kiss the earth for as long as they can, until the sun triumphs and they must retreat to their prison in the sky. (Ava understands the compulsion, to clutch that which you love close to you, even if you know it can’t last.) They stand on the shore, the ocean only feet away yet invisible, its presence confirmed only by the low roar of the surf. On the brink of such immenseness yet the world shrunk so small; muddy toes buried in pebbles, eyelashes bowing with the weight of gathered droplets, her hand clasped in Beatrice’s, tucked warm and dry in her pocket.   A pocket in time and space, a spotlight gifted by the descent of the heavens: move in, move in. Ava shuffles closer, tucking fully into Bea’s side, and props her head on her shoulder with a contented sigh. Bea rests her head on top of Ava’s and there they stand, listening, a bubble within a bubble. 
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thepictorialist · 3 months
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The Universe Below—WA Coast 2010
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northernpintail · 2 months
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Sooo many scoters
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I had a dream the other night that I was on a beach, one of those beautiful sandy PNW coves where the water is frigid and green and the sand is mostly pebbles made perfectly round by the foamy surf. I was on my knees, digging for arrowheads and finding them by the handful, but the point wasn’t the discovery; I was waiting for Dad, waiting for him to come pick me up so we could drive back home. The longer I waited, the more arrowheads I found, and the more anxious I got. Of course he was coming. He always came. I just had to be calm and wait. 
It’s been two days since I woke up and it still hurts. 
This week, we went through Grandpa’s sea chest. It’s a lifetime of little treasures: Boy Scout badges and old coins, cool rocks and broken watches, so many things whose meanings have been lost. For every single one, I wanted to ask Dad, “Do you remember drawing this Father’s Day card? Whose pocket knife was this? This bit of ivory - was this when he was stationed in Alaska? He collected matchbooks. Where did he find these?” But that knowledge is lost, and Grandpa’s keepsakes are just more stuff to sort through. 
In six days, Dad will have been gone a year and while I’m doing mostly all right, there are still moments that punch me in the chest. We’re building a shed for the yard and my entire being screams that it’s a Dad Project, even though in the last years of his life, his knees hurt too bad to help with actual construction. Mom was cleaning out the garage and found the little toolbelt Dad gave me when I was a kid. Now I’ve got one of my own, a proper grown-up one, and I think about his, the leather stiff and burnished with use. 
I’m turning 36 next week. 35 felt like a miracle, a milestone, because I’m bipolar and I never, ever thought I’d make it that far. Now I’m past that, heading into the unknown. We’ve had some family medical stuff recently that’s been pretty stressful, so my brain is already on high alert. Things are going to be all right, but I’m terrified of losing Husbandthing and terrified for my own future, terrified to be 36 and mentally ill and unemployed. I thought I’d have kids and a career. I thought I’d be dead. What’s next? I have no fucking idea. I am an amorphous creature without a defined purpose. 
So I’m rewriting the novel, and building a shed, and driving Husbandthing to appointments, and helping Mom clean out the garage. That’s all I’ve got for now, and it’s going to have to be all right. We keep moving.
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wayoutwest · 1 year
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Sea Stacks - Oregon
Harry Snowden
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demenior · 1 year
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This is a vent post. Carry on.
Saw some photos of someone who took their Great Pyr out on the PNW coast. And it hit me with the reminder that Denver was supposed to come surfing with us for my birthday last year. We had the cabins booked, I was so excited to have him on the beach with me. Had everything planned. And then, well, he got sick.
We still ended up taking photos of me with his collar out on the beach. But seeing those photos of the big dog on the coast just hit me like "yeah I was supposed to have that too".
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scullymurphy · 1 year
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scully! I adore, love, live for your characterization of Lavender in BL, in a forever-changed-the-way-I-see-her way. I know you have millions of plot punnies in your mind all the time, but is any one of them a Lavender-centric fic? It doesn't have to be in the BL Universe, it could just be another,new amazing Lav writen by you. She deserves the world 🥺Thank you for giving so much life and depth to a character that is so easily and frequently cast aside in fics. It was truly revolutionary
Awww, this is a wonderful ask. Thank you so much. I love Lav from the BL/FD universe almost more than any character I've created (almost--hai, BL/FD Theo!) and I'm touched that you love her too.
I've not really thought about doing a Lavender-centric story other than this wild idea @pacific-rimbaud @grangerdangerfics and @provocative-envy and I were kicking around YEARS ago about an interconnected set of muggle AU stories set in a PNW surf town, where my contribution would feature Theo and Lavender as grumpy/sunshine competitive pro surfers?? Ahh, the pandemic times; they engendered some amazing schemes, not all of which were born to come to fruition (sadly). The best/most insane part of that whole story was that we were going to make Dumbledore a crusty old surf-guru with a long white beard and a shark tooth necklace, who meditates on the pier, smokes a lot of weed, out-surfs everyone and is called 'The Wizard' by the locals. 🤣
Anyway, we've come far from Lavender. But I don't think I'll ever quite give up that idea of her as a free beach-spirit type who gets under the skin of a technical, arrogant Theo (and beats him in the big waves contest!) Oh, and someday I may write that third installment of BL/FD in which Lav would feature prominently.
Thank you for bringing me joy by making me think of these good memories and ideas. xoxo ~Scully
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