In Search of Light

It was an unpromising start to the day. I was in a bit of a depressed state (my mind on family in New Mexico) and not much up for exploring, but my husband talked me into it, so off we went. I waited in the car while he started the gas pump then went into the store for coffee. The pump clicked off and while I really wanted to just let him do the whole job, guilt won out and I got out to disconnect us.

Then I did something totally out of character. I decided to top off the gas tank which I have not done since it became impossible to stop the pump at something nice and even like $15.00. Unbeknownst to me, the nozzle had popped out a little and there I was pumping gas all over when my husband came out. We both dabbed at the ground with paper towels for awhile, then beat a hasty retreat.

We didn't get very far before the fumes from our hands (despite a liberal dose of Purell) overcame us and we pulled over on a little country road to wipe our hands in the wet vegetation. Which in my case turned out to be some sort of sticker bush.

Eventually the day improved. Could it be because our first stop was a winery? We enjoyed ourselves at the tasting room and giftshop of Westport Winery and left six bottles heavier than when we arrived.

We continued west to the little ocean side city of Westport where our first stop was the Maritime museum where the star of the show was the first order Fresnel lens from the Destruction Island lighthouse. This lens is set up and lit and rotating inside a building. It is truly a magnificent work of art and engineering.

We then went and climbed up the Grays Harbor Lighthouse. It also has a much smaller third order Fresnel lens, although that is not the light source used today. What's surprising is how far inland this lighthouse is. Our guide said it was due to a jetty that was built that changed the coastline. It is hard to believe that this lighthouse is actually visible and helpful to ships at sea.

A visit to the ocean would not be complete without a walk on the beach. I had not stepped five feet onto the sand when I saw something round and picked it up. Because the wind was whipping my hair so fiercely and obstructing my vision, I handed the object to my husband to wipe clean. It was a New Mexico quarter.

I think about the odds. The odds that a quarter, no longer silver colored, would be found in the miles of sand. The odds that I would find one. And most of all, the odds that it would be from New Mexico. I popped it into my pocket, this little reminder from God that even if I can't be with my family, I carry them in my heart and can find them wherever I go.