We head inland soon, after over two months of residing by this big Pacific Ocean. I will miss it. We’ve seen so many angles, met so many inhabitants, explored so many corners and sat staring in a way that feels unique to this coast. This stretch has been so public, so accessible, though still spacious, wild, and void of crowds. I have been in constant admiration — tidepools, permanently windblown trees, and nearby rainforests in Olympic, birding, geysers, and secret beaches in Oregon, beaches of rock, glass, sand, and shell in California. Seals and sea lions leaping through the surf, dolphins parading past, sting rays washing up to shore, and whales feeding. The solitude of Hobbit Beach contrasted with the crowded, eclectic energy of Venice Beach. We’ve surfed, birded, searched tidepools. We’ve built forts and made homes. We’ve collected, climbed, waded, and wandered. I’m more sad to leave this stretch than I have been any other.