These beauties come from Hug Point in Oregon. I dragged my intrepid companion down there because I’d read Ellen Morris Bishop’s In Search of Ancient Oregon and decided I need to go search for it meself. One thing I hadn’t quite grasped yet, apart from the dramatic scope of the geology, was that the Pacific Northwest is full of flowers that people from Arizona would pay cold hard cash for and struggle mightily to keep alive. Imagine my delight when I discovered these things grow wild up here.
Wild. On the beach. In the rocks. Extraordinary beauty, clinging on wherever it can. Often hiding the geology, but one can forgive it for that. Sort of.
That’s the only photo I have of this particular mystery. But we can’t stop at just one pretty flower, so what the hell? I’ll throw in some irises for free.
This was at Ecola State Park, and it seemed like the whole head was full of wild irises.
Those of you who grew up in dry country will probably understand why I still get ridiculously excited over these things.
And you’ll understand why whole fields of them leave me speechless.
Not to mention these views.
And as if that’s not spectacular enough…
A waterfall on the beach, people. This place is fantastic.