for as long as i can remember, i have always admired the lighthouse. what’s funny is that, even though i lived a mile from the beach for the first 22 years of my life, i never saw a lighthouse in person. i’m weird - inanimate objects can often make me really happy; teapots, white picket fences, yearbooks, salt lamps, records, shoes. and lighthouses. they are just so fucking cute. they’re like little mini houses, skinny and tall, sometimes with cool coastal colors and designs, usually set atop a neat rock or a grassy sand dune. i love the fact that they have been around for a very long time and serve, or served, such a unique purpose. well, i guess not that unique - tired men on boats need to see where land is, right? - but still. i think maybe it’s the fact that when i first learned about lighthouses, i discovered that only one person would live there, way up there, all by themselves, looking over the beautiful stretch of ocean, sand, waves, dolphins. that person woke up and fell asleep to the scent of the saltwater air, and i was jealous. i wanted to be that person. i still want to be that person.
i met my first lighthouse not long ago here in oregon - the tillamook rock lighthouse. i saw her out in the ocean while on a hike in ecola state park and she was perfect, just beautiful. but it wasn’t until recently, at the cape meares lighthouse, where i was able to completely submerge myself into the odd feelings i have for the little light-up buildings. i was able to walk up to her, feel her, see her beautiful paint job up close - eggshell white and anchor blue. i even got to see the little spiral staircase that led up to her purpose, and i just felt so humbled.